Second and Last Chance
by Deliverer
Summary: He was forgiven and let back in, but there was a price to pay. A heavy one. He would have rather died than be saddled with it but here they were nonetheless, and here they'd remain. So what are they to do? Torn between killing each other in their sleep and tolerating each other for the benefits, Alfrid and Hilda now need to learn how to live with each other. Or more mercifully die.
1. One More Chance

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: This is my first attempt at Hobbit and Lord of the Rings fanfiction. It's a story that starts out with a much more humorous, and less introspective and logical, tone than what I usually write. Compared to other stories I want to type up for _The Hobbit_ and _Lord of the Rings_, this is much lighter. At least for the first bit of it. I realized long ago I can't write a humor piece without having at least a little drama, angst, and perhaps tragedy. Or a lot. This is something of an experiment, to delve into The Hobbit fanfiction community, and to try something different than what I usually see on this sight; to focus on characters most don't seem to write about. For those who don't know, Hilda Bianca is the name of the woman of Laketown who *spoiler* rallies the rest of the women of Dale and Esgaroth to join the men in the Battle of the Five Armies, the one that gets snarky and lippy to Alfrid Lickspittle *end spoiler.* I quite liked her character, and for some reason I can't fathom I found Alfrid amusing, in a way, so decided to play with that. Hope you enjoy. This may be the first in a series of stories I want to write.)

One More Chance

He had made it! He had no clue how he'd slipped passed the orcs, trolls, and whatnot, but he was out, his treasure in tow! Farewell Dale, farewell Bard, farewell fruitless existence in a wretched stinking ruins of a town. There was no love lost between him and the Lake Town residents. He couldn't stand them, they couldn't stand him, no one could stand each other, and so he was frankly quite pleased to be gone. Sure the wilderness was dangerous, but all he'd need to do was find a cozy little town to hole up in for a while and establish himself as a most prominent citizen in. Which, given the treasure he carried, couldn't be too hard of an objective. Make like he was some mighty adventurer or fleeing prince from a fallen kingdom or whatnot and he could be living high with servants to boot within a few months.

Yeah. Big words for a slimy, sleazy, greedy, truly and despicably slippery, coward. Needless to say that plan wasn't panning out so well. He hadn't found a blasted town in miles and had realized, by now, that he was hopelessly lost. A cold dread threatened to take hold of him. All this wealth, all his luck, all gone, and now he was going to die in the bloody wilderness and end up where no gold could follow him. What use were riches when he wasn't alive to spend it all?! Blast the bowman, blast the dragon, blast Middle Earth!

_He was going to die._

That thought kept creeping back to him, chilling him right through the bones. He was spinning around in the woods, mouth gaping like a fish. He felt closed in, like the trees were constricting him and strangling the life from his body. Trees, trees, trees, trees! Everywhere he looked trees, and they were all exactly the same! He couldn't tell one from the other. What way was he going? Was he looking up or down? Was he already _dead_?! Damn the forest, damn it! It was driving him mad! He pulled his hair, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. Was he even carrying the gold anymore? Suddenly he somehow didn't care. Bloody hell, he just wanted out! A scream of terror suddenly erupted from his throat as panic overwhelmed. He collapsed to the ground unconscious.

LotR

"Get up you lazy lout," a voice said. A feminine voice. One that while not entirely unpleasant was more than enough to make him want to cringe, vomit, or run himself through with a blade. "I said get up, useless dog!" the voice said sharper. He felt the person kick him in the side.

He groaned, eyes flickering open to see who it was. Not that he needed to. He had a pretty good guess. Hovering above him, expression dark and hands on her hips as she glared harshly down on him, was a woman. Not just any woman either. "Oh no, not you," he groaned. "Anyone but you."

"Alfrid Lickspittle, you rotting waste of skin!" she sharply shot, hitting him with the apron she'd taken off of her dress for the sole purpose of whipping him with it. She continued to whip.

"Ow! Ow! Watch it, damn you woman!" Alfrid demanded, trying to get his bearings and scramble away.

"You thought you could just run away in the heat of battle, did ya?! Leave us all to die!?" she demanded. "Well here's just what I think of you, you sorry sod, you slimy stain on the underbelly of a slug, you rotting, oxygen scarfing, fop!" She struck him again and again until he had hurried to his feet and was trying to run away or scamper up a tree, whichever got him away from her apron of death. It was the tree, and he scrambled as best he could up to the first branch.

"Go away! Go back to your carcasses you little harpy! Orc spawn, get out of here!" he snapped viciously at her, throwing pinecones down at the woman.

"Orc spawn?! Hah! At least I wasn't born of the mucus blown out a troll's nose!" she viciously said, tearing at his ankles, the only part of him she could reach. "Come 'ere!"

"I'll bet your mother enjoyed every bit of the orc who conceived you with her!" Alfrid shot back.

"Me father was a hard workin' man! Good fisherman, good 'usband, good father, good person. You couldn't in the life-span of an elf 'ope to be a _fraction_ of the man 'e was even if 'e _'ad_ been an orc! You left your people to rot!"

"Hilda Bianca, you were already rotting, each and every one of you!" Alfrid shouted, hurling another projectile at her.

"Come down out of those branches and face me like you have some semblance of a backbone!" Hilda demanded.

"Make me!" he replied.

"Very well," she said in all too sweet of a tone. It didn't sit well with Alfrid. "I'll just leave you to rot in these woods while I meself just wander on back to Dale and 'ave a good 'ol meal amongst the company of me friends."

"You 'ave no friends!" Alfrid snapped.

"Farewell, Alfrid Lickspittle. The night is comin' on quickly. I wonder if the spiders is searchin'. 'Aven't 'ad a good meal in a while, I'd wager. Best I be getting on my way. 'Ave fun with your new friends. You'll fit among them better than you ever did amongst the human beings you tried to blend yourself into." She turned and began walking away. Alfrid blinked. Wait. She knew a way out?! No, no, it was a trap. She was leading him back to Dale for trial! He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Fine! Better I spend the rest of me days among the spiders of Mirkwood than live within the same vicinity as _you_! I feel ill enough sharing the air you breathe as it is, you cantankerous, screeching, sickly little Hagraven! The spiders wouldn't even _stomach_ you! Not the _smell_ let alone the sight, sound, and taste! You weren't in any danger in that battle! The orcs would have taken one look at you and named you their queen! Queen of the Repulsive! Queen of the Unseemly! Queen of every man's worst nightmare! Shrew!"

"Slovenly slug!" her voice called back.

"Goblin Queen!"

"Dragon bait!"

"Whore!" Her response to that was best left unrepeated. He blinked at the retort in shock then scowled. "How dare you?! Get back here!" He scrambled out of the tree and set out after her, fuming. "You want a confrontation, I'll give you a confrontation! Hilda Bianca, drag your saggy…"

"I would watch your tongue if I were you," her voice hissed from right beside him as he felt a dagger at his throat. He stiffened, cutting off immediately. "Good. Now come quietly and don't make this more difficult than it 'as to be."

LotR

The celebration was still underway. It had gone late into the night. It had been going on nightly since the victory, pausing only to be dark and sombre again when the King under the Mountain was laid to rest along with his nephews. Once that was done, though, it was fair game, and the people of Esgaroth and Dale relished in this victory. Smaug was dead, the orcs were driven away, and there was peace between men, elves, and dwarves once more. For however long _that_ would last. Bard was making his way through the crowds after having sent his children to bed. He had duties, now, to tend to. It had become a mutual understanding amongst the people of Laketown—of Dale and Esgaroth now, for finally their home was restored to them, and plans to rebuild Esgaroth were underway—that he would become the new Master, Lord of Dale. A king in his own right, he supposed, though he did not want any such title. He was a more humble man than that.

"Bard!" a voice called.

He turned and smiled. "Percy," he greeted, taking his old friend's hand and clapping a hand on his shoulder. The two put their foreheads together briefly then drew apart. "I'm glad to see you well."

"I'm glad for it too," Percy replied, chuckling. "I had no doubts you'd pull through. Was me I wasn't certain about. Too old for fighting, my boy, much too old." He looked around. "This place will need a lot of work still," he remarked.

"With the trade between Mirkwood, Dale, Esgaroth, and Erebor re-established, it will soon be a great city once more," Bard said.

"It's already shaping up to be just that. So the trade treaties have been agreed upon, then?" Percy asked.

"It is being discussed between King Thranduil, Dain, and myself. They are willing, for the most part, to be our allies and aid us in our establishing ourselves once more," Bard assured.

"King Thranduil, then, has come to have a grudging respect for you," Percy acknowledged.

"For us," Bard corrected. "Dale is not mine alone."

"Then we must do all we can to keep the Elven King's respect," Percy said, nodding.

Bard nodded back. "We will manage it. Do not stress now, friend. Enjoy yourself."

Percy began to relax and smile. That smile fell quickly, though, and he gasped, looking passed Bard towards something. Fearing a surprise attack, Bard quickly turned. He started, eyes widening, on seeing who was coming towards them. "Hilda!" he exclaimed in delight. Immediately he and Percy raced across the distance between them and the two men embraced her.

"Oh Miss Bianca, when we couldn't find you in the crowds we feared you had been killed!" Percy exclaimed. The two men drew back from her.

"Humph, I 'eld my own as well as any man," she replied.

"Then where did you go?" Bard questioned.

"To track a rat," Hilda answered, glaring scathingly behind her. "Look who I found lingering in the wilderness and getting 'imself into all sorts of panic. Bah, wouldn't 'ave made it through the night. Should 'ave left 'im for the spiders."

Bard and Percy looked quickly over. Grimacing, a figure stepped into sight. Their eyes widened. "Alfrid Lickspittle!" Percy exclaimed.

Bard's eyes hardened. "Coward," he said to the man.

"Oh bite me," Alfrid grumbled. "Well then let's get this over with. Arrest me, try me, whatever the bloody 'ell it is you intend to do."

Bard smirked coldly. "Alfrid, if you were worth the breath it would take to execute you, I would have done it already," he replied.

"It's me youth all over again, bullied and pushed around by the big shots," Alfrid snidely sneered.

"And you gave, albeit more subtly, as much as you got. Get him some food," Bard commanded. He felt a brief pang of guilt. They had been quite cruel to Alfrid at that, he and the other boys of their age. He wished he could feel guilty about it, but given what the man became… Of course that could have perhaps been _because_ of their treatment of him. This time he inwardly cringed, but there was little time to feel fault at the moment. Not to mention holding that sensation for very long at all was a task in futility. Alfrid was… not exactly likeable.

"Come here, you," Percy coldly said, roughly taking Alfrid's arm and leading him off towards the food as the townsfolk began registering he was there and glaring bitterly at him. "Oh get over it, he's no spectacle!" Percy ordered them. They turned back to what they were doing, paying little more attention to the cowardly traitor. They were all accustomed to Alfrid by now. Really, little he did surprised them anymore. He couldn't get any slimier than they already knew him to be. Cowardly actions were really just another day in the life and whatnot.

Alfrid, eating, took to admiring the mass of gold and such that he had taken with him. He was relieved he hadn't dropped it. It was his, all his! He just had to keep his newfound riches to a gross worth that stayed more plentiful than what the rest of the dregs in this disease infested dump of a ruin would gain when the gold started 'flowing like a river' down the mountain. His concern, right now, was whether he'd be allowed to even stay after his running away. He doubted it, but at least this time when he was banished he would have an idea of how to go about it. Said idea was primarily avoid Mirkwood Forest, but still! It was a work in progress. Give him a break. Not that he'd have much of one before this incident came to trial.

LotR

Hilda, Bard, and Percy were gathered together, watching Alfrid from a distance. "We should send 'im on his merry way again. He's got no place with us," Percy said.

"He was born and raised on the lake," Bard replied. "He has as much a right to Dale and Esgaroth as anyone else."

"It's not that, Bard. Even if 'e could be allowed to stay, it's possible the people would riot. Not against you, but against 'im," Percy said. "Besides, our law says he can't be allowed to come back. Not after what he did."

"I do not intend to leave him to die in the wilderness," Bard said.

"It's all that can be done," Percy replied.

"We already nearly killed 'im once. The townspeople would do anything to 'ave 'is 'ide in their 'ands again," Hilda snidely sneered in Alfrid's direction. "I say let Bard allow 'im to stay regardless. Whenever things get tough, 'e can be there for us to let out our anger on."

"If he stays, he will not be subject to that persecution. Not even him, though Valar know he deserves it," Bard replied.

"If 'e stays 'ere, at least make 'is life a living 'ell," Hilda said.

"I'm sure you'll cover that just fine," Bard said to her, smiling.

"Right I will," Hilda replied.

"You are not understanding, neither of you. What's done is done. Alfrid can't be given leniency. I'm sorry, Bard. All that can be done is to send 'im away again," Percy said.

"No it isn't," Hilda grumbled.

"Hilda?" Percy asked. An explanation would be helpful to have.

"'E's keepin' that money you let 'im get away with, isn't 'e?" she asked.

"Yes. But what does that have to do with…?" Bard began.

"It don't. I'm back to the subject of Alfrid's fate now. You 'eard the sayin' 'appy wife makes for a 'appy life?" Hilda asked. "Insert the opposite of 'appy in that rhyme."

"What are you getting at?" Percy asked.

"By law he can't be allowed to stay… But by law there's also a way around that. 'E's well off enough to provide for a wife. As it stands, that _is_ 'is only chance at bein' able to stay 'ere. Marriage. If someone from the city is willin' to marry 'im, it would bind 'im 'ere by law. That union trumps the banishment laws. Otherwise 'e's as good as dead," Hilda said.

"What woman would _marry_ him?" Percy dryly questioned. He and Bard smirked knowingly at each other, stifling chuckles.

"Good point. We'll figure it out when it comes to it," Hilda answered. "If no one does, the worst that can 'appen is 'e gets 'imself tossed out again. 'Ardly a loss." With that the three separated.

LotR

"Your fate has been decided, Alfrid Lickspittle," Bard announced a few days later when the agreement on Alfrid's punishment had been reached.

"Yes sire," Alfrid said, desperately trying to get into the suck-up mode in a last ditch hope that it would earn him some leniency.

"By law I cannot allow you to remain. I'm sorry. You are to leave, first thing in the morning…" Bard began.

"Now wait a minute…" Alfrid began.

"Or…" Bard cut off. Alfrid became silent, curious but at the same time apprehensive. "Or you may keep the money and remain here. But there is a condition."

"What condition?" Alfrid questioned.

"Marriage," Bard replied.

"You're pretty enough, but I'm afraid I don't lean that way, sire," Alfrid replied, smirking tauntingly at Bard.

Bard started and blinked. Percy and some of the subjects snickered. Bard blushed in embarrassment. "Not to me!" he sharply shot. "To a woman of the village."

"What woman?" Alfrid asked.

"Whichever will have you," Bard answered. Alfrid cringed and looked out over the crowd. None of the women looked for even a second as if they'd consider being with him if the whole of the treasure of Erebor was offered to them. "It seems the second option is not boding well for you," Bard said to Alfrid.

"Oh shove it up your…" Alfrid began.

"Oh bloody 'ell, I'll take 'im," a woman said. Alfrid stiffened and literally went white. As in so white he could have blended in with the snow. No. _No_! They wouldn't. Not her. He spun around, gawking in horror.

"Hilda Bianca!?" he exclaimed in horror.

"_Hilda_?!" Bard asked in shock.

"Have you lost your mind?" Percy questioned, much more direct in his line of questioning.

"Well it ain't like I've got any other prospects in future. Every man in this forsaken community who isn't married is either a widower with too many children to count—no offense, Bard—a poor slob begging on the streets, a fisherman hardly scraping by with enough to feed 'imself let alone a wife—no offense Percy—elderly—again, no offence Percy—a child, or intending to leave the moment opportunity presents," Hilda replied.

Percy and Bard started, looking at her in shock. "You're willing to marry Alfrid _Lickspittle_?" Bard doubtfully asked.

"I'm willin' to marry 'is gold," Hilda replied, smirking wickedly.

"You sneaky wench. You had this all planned out!" Percy exclaimed in realization. "That's why you suggested it!"

"Oh come on. It was obvious Bard wasn't going to make 'is life misery in itself if 'e were allowed to stay, and if 'e went all that gold would go with 'im, so obviously the task of making 'im suffer and keeping that money in the city 'as to fall to someone else," Hilda replied. "'E's rich, I'm provided for, and I get to torment 'im day in and day out until 'e _wishes_ the orcs or trolls or spiders 'ad got 'im. Meanwhile, I get fat off of the food 'is money can buy and spoiled with the clothes and whatnot."

"Hilda, are you sure?" Bard asked.

"Will _you_ marry me, Bard?" she demanded. "I isn't going to deny I've 'ad feelings for you a long while now."

"M-_me_?!" Bard exclaimed.

"Take her!" Alfrid pled.

"Hilda, not that I wouldn't want to, because I have certainly tossed the idea around, but I just… It is too soon. I have not even fully gotten over the death of my wife, and as to love…" Bard began.

"Yes, yes, the old story. Never love again and all that. I don't care for love, I want the benefits marriage brings," Hilda said. "You, Percy? You want to marry me?"

"Were I twenty or so years younger I would have delighted—you're a real beauty, Miss Bianca, under that dirt and grime—but I'm married, and I love her very dearly," Percy replied.

"Well that settles it, then. Marry us up already. And make sure, my dear Alfrid, that your will is set up to reflect a respectable marriage," she cruelly taunted. Oh how she loved every minute of this. She utterly despised, hated, and loathed—realizing they all meant the same thing—him. She could think of no worse torment for the weasel than this, and apparently he thought the same, because the next instant he was begging Bard to banish him or execute him or feed him to the spiders, even throwing in the offer of Bard taking the gold as well on top of it all. Hilda listened in sick satisfaction. It was taking her all to refrain from wickedly laughing in his face and spitting upon him.

"I like this arrangement," Percy murmured to Bard as Alfrid continued to plead. "He is punished. Severely. He'll still be welcome back in the city, but…"

"Enough said," Bard said, smirking. "Congratulations on your pending marriage, Alfrid. I'm afraid in this instance you have no choice." Inwardly he was laughing his head off. This was just too rich, the situation that Alfrid was now jammed into. He almost considered marrying Hilda for coming up with it. "Have fun, my friend," Bard said. Alfrid screamed to the skies.


	2. Wedded Hell

**Second and Last Chance**

Wedded Hell

"Move over, you're taking all me blankets!" Alfrid heatedly demanded of Hilda, grabbing for them.

"Me?! You're the one with all the blankets!" Hilda protested. "Share and share alike, dumpling, and remember we're married now whether you like it or not."

"I'd sooner swim with the sharks!" Alfrid shot.

"Go on then, more gold for me," Hilda answered, grabbing back her blankets. "And if you doesn't start sharin' like a gentleman, I _will_ take all the blankets for meself."

"Damn you, you little fury!" Alfrid snapped, but he didn't move to take more than his share of the covers yet. "Thank the Valar we isn't sealing the marriage night. I already get nauseous _thinking_ about it."

"You think you're sick thinking about it? Bah! I wouldn't be able to stop meself from vomiting were I doomed to roll in the hay with the likes of you," she said in exasperation.

"Watch what you eat and drink from my 'ands, puppet," Alfrid snidely sneered. "You may end up regretting in. I wouldn't want to be left a widower, you know."

"Oh Alfrid Lickspittle, you slobbering, slovenly, mongrel of a man. You're nothing but a waste and that's all you'll ever be," she bit bitterly at him.

"And you're a gold-digging harlot who can't read a good book let alone count passed the number ten," Alfrid snipped.

"So I'm uneducated, that isn't none of your business!" she snapped sharply, honestly stung by the remark. She hated being reminded of what an uneducated and stupid woman she was. He had no place telling her such things as that!

"What use is gold to you? I could give you a _fraction_ of me spoils and you couldn't even count how much you really had!" Alfrid snapped. "You'd be taken a fool like anything."

"One more word out of you, snake, and you'll be sleeping with the pigs where you belong. Was one thing the boys from our childhood got right about you. Your home was with the animals, not with decent normal folk!"

"Whore!" he angrily shot, rolling quickly over and going for her throat. She seized his as well immediately as they both began to try and choke the life out of each other. It was apparent very quickly that he would win this death match. Already she was choking, and he was only having a little trouble breathing. Just then there was a strong knock on the door. Instantly the two pulled away from each other, laying down like nothing had happened.

"Who is it?!" Hilda called down.

"Your neighbors, who else?!" a voice called back. "We heard yelling and got concerned. You two alright in there?"

"We're fine," Alfrid replied.

"What 'e said," Hilda agreed.

"Are you sure?" the neighbor asked.

"We ought to know when we're fine and when we isn't!" Alfrid shot in annoyance.

"If you're sure…" the neighbor hesitantly answered.

"We are, now go on, you. We're tryin' to seal the marriage night," Hilda called.

"Good luck with that," they heard the neighbor mutter. Alfrid cringed and glared daggers towards the doors. Hilda harrumphed, shaking her head. She rolled over, turning her back to Alfrid, and closed her eyes to try and sleep. Alfrid followed suite, turning his back on her as well and closing his eyes. Sleep didn't come nearly as easily as the two would have liked.

LotR

"What sort of meal is this?!" Alfrid demanded of her in a rage.

"It's what I'm damn well feedin' you!" Hilda screamed back. "You don't like it then starve!"

"What is this even?!" Alfrid demanded.

"It's called gruel, and there's plenty more where it came from, now eat up!" she snapped viciously, plopping another glob onto his plate.

"You're married to the richest man in Dale and still you end up caught in the life of a filthy peasant! All the ingredients you could ask for and you make _gruel_?!" Alfrid demanded. "I isn't eating this garbage!" He threw the plate across the room for emphasis.

"Then you go without!" she snarled at him. "I'll eat my share 'appily while you sit there sulking while your belly grumbles and gurgles. I got no problem with there being more for me."

"Eat it by yourself, then!" he freaked.

"Nothing would give me more pleasure! I would like to be able to stomach me food thank you very much!" she yelled.

"Bah!" Alfrid shouted, throwing up his hands in exasperation and storming out of the house.

"And stay out! Good riddance! If I never see you again it'll be too soon, you bastard!" Hilda shouted, after him, shaking her fist. She furiously turned on her heel and stormed back inside. She sat at the table and took a good big bite of the gruel. She grimaced. She hated to admit it, but he'd had a point. She certainly weren't wanting for money anymore, so she could afford to get some decent ingredients and make an actual meal. She was still living in a poor woman's world, she supposed. Ah well, soon enough she'd adjust to having more money than she knew what to do with. There were perks to marrying wealth. She took another bite of the gruel and made a face. Better sooner than later, she decided.

LotR

Alfrid stormed agitatedly through Dale. "Alfrid, well met!" Bard called out from his place next to Percy as they worked on making further plans to get Dale back to its former glory. It was obvious who was king here. Alfrid determined he'd have to start sucking up sooner than later if he were to be in a position of power befitting an educated—more or less—man such as himself. Before he could suck up, though, he had to get settled into the knowledge he was a very, very, very unhappily married man, wed to the most repulsive vile creature he ever had the misfortune of seeing, and that _included_ himself and the Master of Laketown.

"How fares your wife, Lickspittle?" Percy asked.

"Bah!" Alfrid replied.

"That bad?" Percy said, eyes lighting wickedly up.

"You two laugh it up!" Alfrid shot.

"Look at it this way, Alfrid. Hilda was one of the most eligible women in all of Laketown. She certainly isn't as unappealing to the eye as many others are," Bard said.

"I would have taken an 800 pound 100 year old ogre of a woman over the little wench you sentenced me to!" Alfrid snapped. "Hilda Bianca is the single most bile-inducing creature I could ever have laid eyes on and now I'm married to 'er! Thank you for nothing!"

"You're welcome, Alfrid," Bard replied. He and Percy laughed. Alfrid fumed.

Storming onwards, Alfrid came to what was becoming the marketplace again. Already a good number of stalls and shops were set up. Good. He was pleased to see food was the first and foremost one. He marched straight to it. "Give me your best cuts of meat. Already made," he ordered.

"You'd better be willing to pay a fine price for it," the shopkeeper replied.

"Of course I am!" Alfrid snapped. The shopkeeper snorted and handed over some good cuts of meat. "Vegetables too. The most crisp you have."

"Alfrid, you're lucky you have the money to spend or I'd be kicking you to the curb," the shopkeeper replied, huffing. Nonetheless he gave him vegetables too and held out his hand. "Fifty gold pieces."

"Fifty?!" Alfrid demanded.

"Times is tough. Got to make a living," the shopkeeper defended.

"This is robbery!" Alfrid shot.

"You pay or Bard deals with you," the shopkeeper said. Alfrid harrumphed and handed over the gold begrudgingly. Sulking, he turned on his heel and marched back towards home.

LotR

Hilda was cleaning up the dishes and the gruel when Alfrid returned. He plopped one of the cuts of meat and some vegetables down in front of her on a plate. "That's what I expect from you, wench. Let no one say Alfrid Lickspittle couldn't provide for a wife! I'll just eat mine elsewhere, thank you very much." He stormed upstairs without waiting for her surprised—and infuriated—reply. She scowled and looked at the food disgustedly. His hands had touched it. She almost decided to throw it out the window or give it to the pigs, but… It had been a long time since last she had any real meat that weren't fish. She harrumphed and sat, beginning to eat. My, it _was_ delicious. Ah marrying a rich man had its perks. She could get used to this actual meal thing.

"About time you did something useful, lout!" she called up the stairs to her—shudder, shudder—husband. Or what was a poor excuse for one, rather.

"Choke on your steak and die, woman!" Alfrid shouted back down. "What I wouldn't give to be single again!" He should have poisoned the damn food. _That_ would have gotten rid of the hagraven good and fast. Down below, Hilda huffed and continued eating imaging all the ways she would like to see Alfrid suffer and die. She almost giggled at the various and gruesome mental images that came to mind.

LotR

Hilda went upstairs to get whatever might be up there in the way of dishes. She spotted Alfrid snoring away on the bed. She refused to call it their bed. The very idea made her sick. She frowned darkly. Grabbing a piece of rope she hit him with it thrice. "Get up you lazy dog!" she shot.

"Ow! Ow! Stop it you little wench, stop it!" Alfrid ordered.

"Get your things in order and do some work! I'm going out," she shot.

"Good! Stay gone!" Alfrid ordered.

"Oh nothing would give me more pleasure, but you 'ave me money so you can bet I'll be comin' back! Always and forever no matter what, you 'ear me? Until the day you kick the bucket and your ill-won, treacherous fortune become mine, so hah!" she replied.

"The dragon should 'ave taken you with 'im! The orcs should've 'ad you prisoner! Oh I shiver in anticipation to imagine the things they would 'ave done to you!" Alfrid yelled.

"I'm their queen, remember?" she snidely sneered at him. "First thing I would do is order them to come 'ere, bind you up, and drag you before me begging and screaming!"

"Hagraven!" he snapped.

"Troll! You make me want to puke, Alfrid Lickspittle!" she replied, storming out of the house.

"That goes two ways, Hilda Bianca! Or should I say Hilda Lickspittle, huh? You share me name now, wench, remember it always!" Alfrid shouted.

"The moment I'm a widow, that'll change believe you me!" she called as she walked down the street.

LotR

She was all too happy to be away from him and chattering with the other women of Laketown. Dale now, actually. She could rant all she wanted here. Of course she could at home directly to him as well, but it was so much more satisfying to have others agree with her instead of give back exactly what they got. She had to admit a begrudging admiration that her, gag, husband, could do so. "Pig headed, unibrowed little weasel doesn't know what 'e's got in a wife with you, Hilda dear," one of the other women, the one married to Percy, said.

"Damn right 'e don't," Hilda agreed. "Little snake makes me ill every time I look at 'im. The day I get possession of 'is gold can't come soon enough. The toad will rue the day 'e ever learned the name Hilda Bianca. But it isn't without its perks. Already eating better in one day than I 'ave in one lifetime."

"Let's all pray for 'is dying day, ladies. May it come sure and swift and free our dear Hilda from that unholy union she's in," one of the other ladies said. They all spit to make the curse take an even deeper root then cackled cruelly.

"Man was a waste of air the day his mother birthed him," one of the women said.

"Easy. She was as good a woman as any of us. Was her curse to 'ave Alfrid," a third stated.

"Saddest of all, the dear soul died bringing 'im into this world. That sweet woman would roll over in her grave to know what 'er wretched 'orrid son became," Percy's wife said.

"Leave us not get too cruel," Hilda said, smirking dryly. "Let that little matter to me. I think I'll use that in one of me rants at 'im one of these 'ere days."

"Do. Tell us how he reacted to it too," another said.

Hilda nodded in agreement. "I'm heading off to do some shopping. Maybe buy meself some high-quality food. Preferably so expensive that hearing the price will give me 'beloved' a well-deserved heart attack."

"And clothes and jewelry, Hilda, and cosmetics and perfumes. Imagine the lovely things you can afford now. The more you spend the more Alfrid stings," Percy's fiancé said.

"And the less I 'ave when 'e kicks the bucket," Hilda pointed out, heading off.

LotR

Alfrid walked along the street brooding. He wanted to hurt her. Badly. Not physically, that would end up in his being personally executed by Bard or her father-figure Percy, but emotionally. He felt like she was winning this little game of emotional abuse. He was certainly feeling the sting, maybe more than even she was, so he needed to get back some ground. How could he hurt her? What was she sensitive about? He knew surprisingly little about her and about everyone else in this pathetic ruins of a city, that wasn't found out by spying on them. He had never bothered making friends or getting close to anyone. Whenever he did he ended up stabbed in the back or it was some ruse to humiliate, beat, taunt, and otherwise make general life miserable for, him. Friends betrayed you. Friends were good for nothing and only stood in your way.

The Master had really been the only one he knew much about at all. He had been comfortable there because under the Master there was protection, there was power, and those who would have otherwise tormented him couldn't do nothing unless they wanted to end up in prison, executed, or exiled. He had liked that power. The power to make those who had made him suffer pay for those days. He made them suffer all the worse. He smirked cruelly. Uneducated sods deserved no less.

Hmm… Education… Hilda had certainly seemed offended when he'd mentioned her lack of intelligence and education. Maybe that was her weak spot. He smirked cruelly. He would most definitely try to exploit it, if that were the case. He almost snickered. He'd test the waters when he saw her at home again. He paused. Or out on the sreets, he inwardly corrected as he caught sight of her at a stall. Spending _his_ gold. The thought enraged Alfrid and he stormed towards her, eyes flashing.

"Alright then, let's have a try," she said to the shopkeeper who was tempting her with a perfume. She took it from the woman behind the counter and applied it to her own neck lightly. She had to admit a begrudging liking of the scent. Unfortunately she couldn't afford… Hold on a moment, yes she could. A wicked glint came to her eyes. "I'll take it," she said. "'Ow much?"

"Ten gold pieces," the woman answered.

"That's robbery, I tells ya," Hilda replied. "Fortunately me 'usband's too well off for 'is own good." She placed a handful of the gold pieces on the counter. "I… Count out 'ow much you need," Hilda said to the woman. The woman's eyes became sympathetic and she nodded. Hilda was a clever woman, yes, and smart as a whip in some ways; but she had never had a day of education in her life other than the trades her father and mother knew. Poor dear couldn't count passed five or so. She was far from the only one who couldn't in this town too, but it was a sting to her pride and so if she could avoid admitting she couldn't count—or read, or write, or various other things—she would avoid it. The shopkeeper counted out the ten gold pieces and handed the rest back to Hilda.

"Who gave you permission to spend our money?!" Alfrid suddenly yelled, approaching Hida angrily.

"Not a soul, nor does they need to, Alfrid Lickspittle! Your gold is my gold now and I'll spend it as I see fit thank you very much!" Hilda sharply retorted. "I've never 'ad nice things in all me life, and I know damn well you wouldn't spend a cent on spoiling me, so I've got to do it meself! You 'ave more than enough money to last yourself two lifetimes of high and indulgent living, so there isn't no reason you can't spend a bit or let your wife do so!" Hilda retorted sharply.

"You don't know the value of gold, wench! You never 'ad any to _spend_!" Alfrid yelled. "Why you don't even know what the number 7 is or what it's worth at all! Or 10, or 20, or 9, nothing! You know squat about the value of coin!"

That earned him a good hard slap. "'Ow dare you!" she shot after delivering it.

"Wench!" he shot, seizing her wrists roughly and shaking her. "You don't ever 'it me!" In response she spit on him and jerked away.

"Go crawl back in your den you ugly outcast! Traitor! Mistake of nature! Vile creature! _Freak_! Be gone, worm! You doesn't belong with us! Valar bless your poor mother's soul! If she were ever to see what 'er son became, she would drown 'erself in the river!" she yelled. "Bless the gods 'er child killed 'er coming out before she could see what the baby she birthed was!"

LotR

The change was immediate. So much so Hilda was actually taken aback. Alfrid had gone as white as a sheet, and there was a look in his eyes… Was that anguish and guilt? No. Couldn't be. For a moment rage flashed and in that second she thought for sure he'd strike her dead… and then rage crumbled to misery and quickly he turned from her and began storming away. Not before she saw the threat of tears in his eyes, though. She was shaken, surprised. She didn't know what to do about this. Before she could think she went after him. "Get back 'ere you! I'm not finished!"

He spun around, throwing a pot he'd snatched from a market stall at her head. She screamed, ducking under it. "You brainless whore!" he screamed viciously at her. "Don't come near me! Don't come back! I swear to whatever powers may be I will strangle the life out of you if I ever catch sight of you again!"

"Alfrid?" Bard's surprised voice said from the side.

Alfrid spun viciously on him. "She can have the gold, she can have the house, I'm through with the nitwit! You let me divorce her or else. If you don't, see if I care! I'm leaving this place and you _people_ and that daughter of an orc behind. I hate you all, every one of you! What good are you, you stupid, useless fishermen? Half of you can't count passed ten and the other half can't even read or write let alone be any use for anything beyond fishing and gutting and stinking up the earth with your existence. I don't care if I die out in those woods as long as it's far from this city and this nightmare I'm living in now!" he freaked. "Damn you all! I hope the orcs come and slaughter you all. Farewell Bard, farewell Hilda, farewell all of you! Save your cheers for after I'm gone!"

"May the spiders bite off your ugly head, Alfrid!" Hilda shouted. "No one 'ere will mourn your going! No one cares about you, no one!"

"No one _ever_ did!" Alfrid shot back at her. "At least I 'ad respite in education. Count passed five, Hilda, go on!" She blushed deeply and said nothing. "That's what I thought! Read that letter, Hilda, what letter is on that note?!" She again said nothing, but she was silently fuming. "At least my mother's son _made_ something of himself! Something she would 'ave been proud of! What made your parents proud, 'love'? Maybe that you never screamed when your father climbed on top of you?"

"'E never touched me!" she shrieked at him. "He was accused falsely! Me father was a _good_ man."

"Tell that to those who sentenced 'im to death!" Alfrid shouted.

"'E did nothing to me, nothing! 'E was innocent!" she screamed, tears in her eyes.

"I saw 'im die, Hilda. He dangled there a good long time beggin' for 'is miserable life. Claimed 'is innocence until his last breath left 'is body and 'e stopped flopping about like a fish on a line," Alfrid said. She gasped back a sob. "Want to know something else? I believed 'im. I believed 'is innocence. _No_ man would want you in 'is bed let alone your own father! Man couldn't _pay_ a fisherman to have you! I believed 'im and I said nothing, nothing!" Alfrid yelled.

"Bastard!" she shrieked, lunging at him with fingers stretched out like talons. She threw herself into him, knocking him to the ground, and began to claw viciously at his eyes and face and throat, looking as though she would murder him. She probably would. His eyes blazed with equal fury and he fought back like a wild animal. It was apparent to everyone that they intended this to be a fight to the death. She bit him viciously. He screamed in pain and kneed upwards into her stomach. She cried out. He wrestled for the upper hand, but she was fiery as she kept him beneath her, biting and clawing. They hardly heard the voices screaming at them to stop. They hardly felt the hands of those who tried to pull them apart only to be thrown back or hurt in the process.

Bard lunged for the couple, along with Percy. Percy seized Hilda around the waist, ripping her off of Alfrid. Alfrid leapt up and went to stab her with a knife, but Bard caught his wrist and took firm hold of him, dragging him back from her. "Enough, enough!" he yelled at them both furiously. They were still screaming and cursing each other out. Alfrid tried to lunge. Bard threw him onto the ground and quickly knelt on his back, jerking his hands behind him as he struggled. Hilda bit Percy hard. He cried out in pain, dropping her, and she ran for Alfrid. Percy lunged, catching her and this time pinning her arms at her side and forcing her down onto her knees as she continued to struggle. Soon, though, the fight went out of them both.

LotR

When the struggling and screaming themselves hoarse finally stopped, Hilda burst into tears, hanging her head low and weeping shamelessly. Alfrid had his eyes tightly shut. He wouldn't move, he wouldn't speak, he wouldn't open his eyes, and he wouldn't look up. Bard, though, caught sight of a tear trail left behind from a tear that at some point had defiantly escaped Alfrid's eye. Off to the side the perfume bottle was shattered. Percy looked over at it. He was almost grateful it had. The scent was soothing. It may have helped calm the couple down. Still, such a waste.

"The show is over. All of you, go back to your business," Bard commanded the people. Though reluctant, they did so. The woman who had sold the perfume brought another bottle over to Hilda, pity in her eyes.

"'Ere you are, dear," she gently said. "I'll write it off this time." Hilda didn't respond, just kept crying. Silently now, though. The woman cringed and put the bottle in Hilda's apron pocket then quickly left.

Soon only Bard, Percy, Alfrid, and Hilda were left. Hilda rose calmly, having now calmed herself enough to think again. Tears were still falling, yes, but she could deal with those. She wiped them away, looked bitterly down at Alfrid, then turned and started walking away. Bard soon got off of Alfrid. He rose, eyes flashing with annoyance as he dusted himself off. "Give me a boat," Alfrid said.

"Alfrid, you do not need to go," Bard said.

"Where would I go?" Alfrid bitterly questioned. "I just need… I just need time to meself…" Bard, though unconvinced, nodded reluctantly.

"I'll take him," Percy assured.

"Thank you, Percy, but I will go as well," Bard said. Percy nodded. The two men accompanied Alfrid down towards the boats the path of which, to Alfrid's chagrin, ran right outside of his house. Which meant he got to be closer to Hilda than he ever wanted to be again for as long as he lived.

LotR

For a time Alfrid, Bard, and Percy were silent. Percy was first to speak. "Why did you tell her you said nothing?" Percy questioned.

"What are you talking about?" Alfrid asked.

"You told her you believed her father when he'd said he was innocent but said nothing to it," Percy said.

"I didn't," Alfrid replied.

"Yes you did," Percy said. "I heard you plain as day. Was the one semi-descent thing you'd done for years, so you'd better believe I remembered it."

"Well didn't do 'im any good now, did it? What good were a child's words against an adult's?" Alfrid demanded, sharply looking over at Percy.

"What was it he said?" Bard questioned.

"He said, 'Master, Hilda's da didn't hurt her, he didn't. You can't kill him. He's innocent'," Percy replied. "Well, it was something to that effect."

"I said he didn't do it after the Master pronounced sentence. I told him he was innocent and I said I saw the man who tried, and he didn't succeed because Hilda's father drove him away before he could get into her. Just not before he'd stripped her and fondled her a bit," Alfrid said.

"How do you know?" Bard asked.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told them. I was in 'er 'ouse, in 'er room, in 'er closet because I was forced to 'ide there when she came to bed early. I told them that. Was there because one of your little posse of friends 'ad said they'd stop bullying me if I stole something—any item I deemed worthwhile—from the Bianca 'ouse'old. Went in to do the deed, 'eard 'er come, 'id in 'er closet. Saw the whole mess unfold from the moment the man entered the window to the moment her father drove 'im off… Could 'ave stopped the execution if I'd admitted that second 'alf of it, I just didn't. Wasn't intending on getting into trouble, so 'e ended up dead. Told the master I saw who did it, but when they questioned me as to 'ow I knew, I closed down. Couldn't very well tell 'im the truth if I wanted to keep my 'ands," Alfrid answered. "Like I said, I knew 'e was innocent but didn't say anything."

"But you did," Percy said.

"Not enough, apparently," Alfrid shot back. "Served Hilda right anyway, the 'ag," Alfrid said. "Would've loved to see 'er suffer even more than that." He yelped as a thankfully empty pot crashed down on his head. Sharply he, Bard, and Percy looked up. Hilda was scowling down at them from the window. "Oh no," Alfrid groaned. He knew this path was a bad idea.

"Bastard!" she screamed at him through tears. She couldn't find her words to say more and viciously she slammed shut the windows.

"Maybe dying in the wilderness ain't such a bad idea after all," Alfrid grumbled, marching on towards the boats. Soon enough they reached them. Alfrid untied one.

"Should we go with you?" Bard asked.

"Get lost," Alfrid bit at them, shoving the boat off and jumping into it. He just wanted to be alone… And he was… He always was… Always _had_ been. As soon as he was in the middle of the lake he let himself break down into tears.

LotR

After slamming the window, Hilda rested her head against the pane, eyes tightly shut as she wept a little more audibly. She had heard everything. She had no words. She didn't even know what to think or feel anymore. She should feel grateful Alfrid had tried to stop the execution. She could feel only rage because he hadn't tried hard enough. He was out for himself. Always had been always would be. Deserved no gratefulness and even less respect… She wished she could feel touched, part of her maybe did, but that part was easily drowned out by everything else she thought about the snake. He could have saved her father and he said _nothing_! …Well, he had said _something_… Something just hadn't been enough. Gods how she wanted to kill the man. She almost wished that pot she'd thrown down on his head had been full, but she hadn't wanted to risk that in case her aim had been off and she had hit Percy or Bard instead.

She looked out the window once more. She saw them far down by the water and watched Alfrid push off. With luck a sudden storm would come up and he would drown out there. The boat stopped in the middle. She frowned coldly. Suicide? Oh please say it was suicide. The boat didn't move. A cruel smirk parted her lips. Maybe it was _was_. The smirk fell. Somehow she got the feeling that wasn't so. She determined she didn't want to know and shut the windows and curtains, crawling into bed. She hoped he wouldn't be there when she woke up.


	3. Orc Encounter

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: In which Thranduil is surprisingly cordial to his allies-if you can call them that-in Erebor and Dale.)

Orc Encounter

She was awakened when the sound of a door closing came to her ears. She listened a moment. It was the front door. Someone had come in. She frowned. Alfrid, no doubt. What time was it? She stretched a big stretch then sat up, blinking sleepily at the window. It was light out. He must have been out all that time. She harrumphed and rose, heading for the stairs. She walked down them, eyes narrowed as she glared around for a sign of her—scoff, scoff—husband. She went into the den and saw him shivering, wet, and lighting a fire. She folded her arms, shaking her head hopelessly at him. "Fall into the brine?" she asked.

"You would've liked that, wouldn't you?" he bit back. "Started to rain about two in the morning. Hoped I'd catch hypothermia and die but then figured I wouldn't be giving you the satisfaction."

"You're a good for nothing man, Alfrid Lickspittle," she said.

"And you're good for even less," he snipped.

"Behave or it's gruel again," she threatened.

"I'll just buy me own food!" he shot back at her, frowning.

"Bah," she said, marching towards the kitchen.

"Bah," Alfrid repeated, waving his hand after her dismissively. He stretched. His body ached after sitting in a boat all night in the rain and cold without even trying to sleep. He harrumphed then laid down by the fire, closing his eyes.

"Don't you be falling asleep, Alfrid. Not until you get yourself out of those clothes and into something dry," Hilda shouted from the kitchen. He blinked blankly. How had she known?

"What are you, a doctor?!" he demanded. Nonetheless he got out of the wet clothes and changed into something dry before returning to the fire and laying down in front of it again. If he didn't she'd harp on him without rest.

Hilda entered the den and frowned coldly at the snoring man. "You look worse than usual," she muttered to him, setting the food down next to him then going to eat elsewhere. Couldn't stomach the sight of the man and she'd like to enjoy her meal this time, thank you very much.

LotR

They were eating lunch in silence. The morning had been spent in silence and as far away from each other as possible. Silence was better anyway. "I'm going shopping," she stated.

"Don't you be spending a fortune on nonsense," Alfrid bit. "Isn't nothing that can make you look good so don't even try." She splashed her water angrily into his face. He sputtered then stood, nearly throwing his food at her until there was a knock at the door. The two stopped, looking over at it. "Again? What are we, the social go-to couple?"

Hilda harrumphed and went to answer the door. She smiled on seeing who it was. "Bard, Percy, come in," she invited. The two did so. "What brings you two to visit?" she asked.

"Marriage counselling," Bard answered.

Hilda's smile fell into a frown. "Get out," she said, opening the door again.

"Sorry, my dear, it's best we do this now before you two end up killing each other," Percy said, patting her hand.

"You isn't welcome 'ere. Out!" Hilda shot, pulling her hand away and pointing again.

"What's the ruckus?" Alfrid asked, coming to the foyer.

"Marriage councellin'," Hilda answered.

Alfrid blinked blankly then frowned. "Get out," he ordered Bard and Percy.

"Ah, you've agreed on something. That's a good start," Bard teased. Alfrid and Hilda looked disgusted at the remark.

"Sit down," Percy said, rolling his eyes hopelessly.

LotR

After much arguing, much hands-on, and many not so idle threats, finally Alfrid and Hilda were sitting across from Bard and Percy, Alfrid looking bitter and Hilda looking livid. "Now, let's start simple. Alfrid, say something nice about Hilda," Bard said. Alfrid glanced over at her then away, shuddering. "Alfrid…" Bard warned.

Alfrid grimaced in disgust then turned to her. "Hilda Bianca Lickspittle, I think you are the single most _shrewish_ creature I've ever 'ad the pleasure of laying eyes on," Alfrid said.

"Why you…" Hilda began, looking ready to strike him.

"How was that kind, Alfrid?" Bard asked.

"I said pleasure instead of displeasure," Alfrid deadpanned. Hilda slapped him. Hard. He yelped.

"Alright… Hilda, your turn," Percy said to Hilda.

"Alfrid Lickspittle, you make me physically ill and your unibrow looks like a caterpillar glued to your forehead. It don't compliment your eyes," she said.

"How dare…" Alfrid began.

"Quiet!" Percy shot. Alfrid bit his tongue. "Hilda, how was _that_ kind?" he asked.

"I indirectly complimented 'is eyes," Hilda answered. "Was better than what _'e_ came up with." Bard and Percy exchanged hopeless looks. This was getting them nowhere. Perhaps it was time for plan B. Divide and conquer. Maybe when apart, and with willing participants, they could talk each of them up to the other and at least make it more tolerable if nothing else. They looked back at the couple. Hilda and Alfrid were poking each other incessantly, anger and resentment growing between them. It would come to blows soon. Bard and Percy pinched the bridges of their noses, shaking their heads.

"Have you tried kissing?" Bard asked. Hilda literally gagged and appeared to swallow back bile. Alfrid looked green and they could hear a gurgling sound like his stomach was ready to expel its contents. "Never mind I asked," Bard sighed. He wouldn't bother to question if they'd gotten intimate at all yet.

"Could you at least try hugging or hand holding?" Percy lamely asked. The next thing he and Bard knew, they were outside of the house with the doors and windows being locked behind them. "Well, that went well. They worked together," Percy helplessly offered, shrugging. "Do your elven friends have love potions or shoot love arrows?" Bard face-palmed. "What?" Percy defended. "It's an honest question."

"Come on, Percy," Bard said, ushering his friend away from the house.

"Was just saying," Percy said.

Some Weeks Later

"Am I understanding you correctly?" Thranduil questioned the Lakeman.

"Yes," Bard answered.

"Ye invited us down from our kingdoms to ask us _tha'_?!" Dain Ironfoot demanded.

"I am seeking peace among my people," Bard said.

"You're tryin' to fix one ill-fated marriage. I say let it fall apart," Dain stated.

"Silence, dwarf," Thranduil bit.

"Why ye' faithless…" Dain began.

"Not now," Bard warned the dwarf. Dain harrumphed, falling silent. Luckily he was in a good mood. As good a mood as Dain could be in, that was.

"Hmm, so you called us here to pose a question of love to us," Thranduil said. "Well, you could have made due without the dwarf."

"Back down, pretty boy," Dain warned. Thranduil scoffed. "So you're not pretty?" Dain asked, feigning innocence. The look Thranduil gave him would have withered a warg.

"This sort of thing between you two is the sort of problem I am dealing with between them, only worse still. They do not have your restraint, honor, patience, and wisdom, King Thranduil," Bard praised, going for an ego stroke. Elves certainly had the egos to stroke. Well, for the most part.

"Ye sayin' they're more like me?!" Dain demanded. Bard gave him a look. Dain didn't understand at first but then caught on that he was just making that little question more a fact each time he spoke. He grumbled, backing down.

"I wish only to hear advice. What should be done?" Bard asked.

"Get them each a lover," Dain said.

"Be serious," Bard pled.

Dain sighed. "You know what I'd do, laddie?" he asked.

"What?" Bard questioned.

"I'd force them into a position where they'd have to work together or die. Fire-forged friends can quickly become more," Dain said. "Put 'em near an orc stronghold or spider nest, leave them a weapon or two, and let them have at the survival bit. If they're going to kill each other anyway, what difference does it make if other things do it first?"

"Something less life-threatening and drastic, please," Bard said.

"Get them both drunk," Dain said.

"It could work," Bard mused. "Or it could backfire. They cannot very well be drunk their whole lives, and when they woke up, well, enough said."

Thranduil looked unimpressed with the whole conversation. "Simply wait," he said.

"I cannot wait, my lord Thranduil. They will kill each other. I fear each night one or the other will end up dead," Bard argued.

"You have joined two people who despise each other with a passion together in wedlock," the Elvenking said. "It was a fool's errand."

"I know, but I had hoped… I had hoped it would help the spirits of the two, especially Alfrid. I hoped it would bring out something good in him," Bard said.

"Do not act on hopes unless they are reasonable ones," Thranduil said. "All you can do now is wait. If you feel you absolutely must do something, attempt to get them to open up to each other. You told of her overhearing that he had spoken up for her father, before his execution. It was not something he would have said directly to her and yet it may have touched something in her."

"You are implying that perhaps, if we managed to get them to confess things about themselves to us and ensured they were in hearing range of the other..." Bard began.

"I imply nothing, Dragonslayer," Thranduil answered. "However, should such things as that confession of this 'Alfrid's' keep coming out, then there is a chance that perhaps something will one day be said that shall help them identify with one another. If they can identify, they will begin to open up. If they begin to open up, with luck respect will come, and from respect love grows. Long have I believed that many a battle could have been avoided and many lives saved if the sides involved had attempted to understand one another rather than impose themselves upon their enemy."

"Ye'd never guess," Dain bit.

Thranduil ignored him. "With understanding comes wisdom and questions and other such things of that ilk that in time would gradually grow into friendship. The two you speak of seem very much alike in many ways and yet very different."

"Foils," Dain said.

"Precisely, Master Dwarf," Thranduil said. "With foils the matter can be complicated and very delicate. You cannot attempt to push them together. They will resist all the more and only grow annoyed."

"In annoyance they could bond," Dain pointed out.

"Perhaps," Thranduil agreed. "Though it is unlikely. These two you, Bard, speak of, must find their way through this on their own. You need only pull the strings from behind. A remark dropped, here and again. A redeeming quality mentioned, such things as that."

"He has no redeeming quality," Bard said.

"No?" Thranduil asked. "Search a little harder, and perhaps one will come to the forefront. For one to have no redeeming quality at all is very rare indeed, and even if they do not, often with time one may eventually reveal itself or grow or be learned. Men learn. Very well. They change. They choose their own paths and switch at will. It is not often that a man will never do something at some point in his life that is worth commendation. Even if it is for a selfish reason, it is there. Search for it, Bard the Bowman."

"I may not have the time it takes to," Bard answered.

"You may not," Thranduil agreed. "But if you try and force them to find even a shaky peace, it will only end badly."

"You suppose before he can bond with her, he needs to bond with those he can call confidants?" Dain wondered. "Friends can do wonders for a person."

"To be friends, you need to be able to stand the other," Bard replied.

"Then their relationship is not the only one you need to worry about building up," Thranduil said. "You need not be his friend, Bard, but you must be _something_." Bard was silent, looking out the window over Dale.

"If all else fails, ye could always issue a challenge. Who can be the better mate," Dain offered. Bard thought a moment and nodded. That could work as well, actually, or even help to lead into Thranduil's scheme and advice. He would feel it out.

Next Day

"Bring Alfrid _fishing_ with us?" Percy asked in disbelief. "To be clear you _do_ mean Alfrid Lickspittle, right?"

"I do," Bard replied. "Trust me, Percy." Percy looked unconvinced but nodded nonetheless. He turned to the door and knocked.

Hilda answered it. "What do you want?" she demanded. They'd go out on a limb and say she and Alfrid had fought. Again. For the umpteenth time.

"Is Alfrid here? We're taking him fishing," Percy said.

Hilda looked incredulously at the two. "You're joking," she said.

"Not at all, Ms. Bianca," Bard answered.

"It's Mrs. Lickspittle now, no thanks to me bright idea," she grumbled. "'E's down sulking about town. You'll find 'im there. Now if you'll excuse me, I have shopping to do. This time I'm not just going to be browsing either." She shut the door. Bard and Percy exchanged looks then went to find Alfrid.

LotR

Alfrid looked incredulously at Bard and Percy. "You're joking," he said doubtfully.

"Come now, Alfrid, it'll be fun," Bard insisted.

"Gutting stinking fish? I don't think so," Alfrid replied.

"Then we'll just boat, that's all. Maybe search around for some lost treasures of Dale under the water," Percy suggested.

"Forget it," Alfrid said.

"You're coming, Alfrid. That's an order," Bard said, smirking.

"I isn't goin' anywhere," Alfrid defied.

"Oh yes you are," Percy answered.

LotR

Sure enough, and after no small amount of scuffling, Alfrid was in the boat with Bard and Percy, sulking as per usual. "I'm 'ere under extreme protest," he stated flat out.

"No doubt you are, Alfrid," Bard replied.

"If you wasn't the Master of Dale…" Alfrid began.

"You'd have him arrested for kidnapping? Come now, Alfrid, we all know how that would pan out," Percy said.

"Bah," Alfrid replied, waving them both off.

"Let's just talk, then," Bard said.

"What is this?" Alfrid suspiciously asked.

"It's only a boat trip, Alfrid," Percy replied. Alfrid was quiet, and his jaw was set suddenly. In fact for a moment there was uncertainty. "What is it?" Percy asked.

Alfrid harrumphed and looked out over the lake. "If you're going to drown me then get it over with," he said.

Percy and Bard exchanged looks then turned to Alfrid again. "What makes you think we would drown you?" Bard questioned, a little surprised at Alfrid's blunt statement.

"Because you certainly isn't 'ere just for a chat," Alfrid snidely replied.

"But that is exactly why we are here, Alfrid," Bard said.

"Oh really? Why is that I wonder?" he questioned.

"There's no reason, friend. Put your mind at ease," Percy replied. "Let's see, what to talk about?"

"What is the most romantic thing your wife has ever said to you, Percy?" Bard playfully questioned.

Percy smirked. "That isn't a topic appropriate for the situation now," he answered.

"Oh come on, Percy, it's just us," Bard insisted.

Percy chuckled. "When I confronted her about her putting herself in danger by joining the other women and the elderly in the fight against the orcs, she said 'I would have fought through the whole of the orc army to reach your side. Had I felt for a moment you were in danger, I would have come running, and don't you forget it.'," he answered.

Alfrid gagged. Percy frowned at him then smiled at Bard. "Your turn, Bard. When she was alive…"

Bard bowed his head sadly as he remembered her. "I would tell her, whenever I left and told her that anything could happen out on the lake in the winter storms and in the guard, not to wait for me any longer than a year's time to come back. If I hadn't returned by then, she was to let go. She would say 'I will wait the lifetime of the elves to be returned to your side once again,'" he answered.

"Oh give me a break," Alfrid grumbled. Bard frowned at him now.

"What of you, Alfrid. What is the most romantic thing your wife has ever said to you?" Bard challenged.

Alfrid thought a moment. "'My love for you is as undying as the flame of a fire… on a candle wick in the middle of the freezing cold rain and wind in the middle of rocky field'," he answered as he was stringing nets. Bard and Percy started, looking at each other then back at Alfrid in surprise. Ooh, that was harsh.

"And you?" Percy asked.

"I told 'er me love for 'er is about as undying as the Elvenking is ugly," Alfrid answered. In other words not at all… Not even a little bit… Not even the teeniest most microscopic particle. Percy shook his head hopelessly as Bard pinched the bridge of his nose. Alfrid finished the net off. "Well, are we tossing it or what?" he asked.

"Right," Bard replied. The three of them tossed the net out into the lake, dragging it along in their boat.

"I would wager the Dragon's corpse is riddled with gems and jewels of all sorts," Percy hinted.

"We can't very well go diving for dragon corpses," Bard answered. "But perhaps some of that wealth fell off of him over Laketown and still lays on the shores or in the ruins."

"Now we're treasure hunting?" Alfrid asked.

"We're doing both," Bard answered.

Alfrid looked incredulous then shrugged. "Would rather fish for treasure than fish for fish anyway," he said.

"We knew you would," Percy said, smirking knowingly.

LotR

The boat drew close to the shores of Esgaroth, now in ruins though further on it was being built up again and had come a good ways since the Battle of the Five Armies. Alfrid, Bard, and Percy stopped not far from where the dragon had fallen. It seemed their minds had been changed as to whether or not it would be a good idea to dive for the wyrm's body or not. "Who wishes to dive first and see what remains of the dragon?" Percy asked, smirking.

"Forget it," Alfrid replied.

"Are you afraid he will open his eyes and suddenly set upon you, Alfrid?" Bard teased.

"I wouldn't put it passed 'im now, would I? Not after the way me luck's been running as of late," Alfrid replied.

"If you do not dive for the gold encrusted upon his body, you do not get any of it," Bard declared.

Alfrid grimaced, weighing the pros and cons. What really were the chances the dragon would waken from the dead, after all? "After you, Alfrid," Percy said.

"You're the one lookin' to set up a house," Alfrid bit. "No cheap cost there."

"I'll go first. Give Alfrid time to think about it a good long while," Bard said. He plunged under the water immediately without hesitation… And with his sword, Alfrid noted dryly. Still… Bard came up, then. Alfrid and Percy's eyes popped open wide. Bard had brought up a pocketful of diamonds!

"I'm going in!" Alfrid and Percy exclaimed together, throwing off their coats and whatnot. They began fighting in the boat until Bard tipped it over, sending them both plunging into the lake. They came up, coughing and sputtering. Bard, laughing, was climbing back into the boat he had now righted.

"Share and share alike," Bard teased them. They scowled at him and exchanged grimaces. Nonetheless, both dove. Bard soon joined them once more, and for the whole morning the three men dove for the treasure that was to be looted from Smaug's body and the surrounding lakebed.

LotR

By morning's end they were all laying back in the boat resting, the treasure split—to Alfrid's disdain, given he'd gotten most of it driven on by greed—into three equal parts. Something about it being common courtesy or what friend's did or some other such nonsense he'd never cared to buy into. Or not so equal parts, as Percy was offering Bard a share of his treasure seeing as Bard was the Lord of Dale and what did an old man need with treasure and that such nonsense. Of course the bowman refused. Typical.

"We should probably eat," Percy remarked, finally giving up on talking Bard into taking part of his cut.

"Have you hunted, my friend?" Bard questioned Alfrid.

"No. I'll stay and guard the boat," Alfrid replied.

"Not a chance, Alfrid," Percy replied. "We know what you're thinking." Alfrid glared at them. Not like they couldn't get back alive to Dale even _if_ he took off with the treasure. It seemed, though, they weren't about to be convinced to leave him behind. Fine then. Grumbling, he followed them begrudgingly.

The three men hunted at the edge of the woods. Well, Bard hunted, Percy tried then gave up in favor of fishing—he was getting too old for this hunting nonsense—and Alfrid sulked and groaned and complained, driving away more game than they got by far. Bard was about ready to either throttle him or tell him to get back into the boat when, to his surprise, Alfrid shot something! As if that wasn't a shock in itself, it was something big, and he had brought it down using one of _Bard's_ techniques. "Well _done_," Bard praised in surprise. "Have you been listening all this time after all?"

"I glean, I don't listen," Alfrid replied. "Couple of pointers here and there stick with me. Have a good memory for facts and tidbits, sire. Always ready to hear, I am. Served me well in coddling the old Master and making me way in the world."

"Our own Alfrid, a scholar," Percy teased from the lakeside, easily as impressed as Bard if not more so. "Perhaps you could even be a teacher."

"Can't stomach the brats," Alfrid grumbled.

"You'd better learn to, my friend. Now that you're married, one day you may have no _choice_," Percy poked.

Alfrid grimaced in disgust. "The thought of sleeping with Hilda Bianca is not only appalling, but revolting, stomach churning, and off-putting." All basically the same thing, yes, but it worked to better convey how much the idea disgusted him.

"Come now, Alfrid, she is not unappealing to look at," Bard said.

"I ain't complaining about 'er looks," Alfrid replied.

"You call her hag and half-orc," Percy deadpanned.

"Well she certainly _acts_ like them!" Alfrid shot.

"Hilda is a good and kind woman, and strong more so than you even know or any of us ever suspected. You need only break through her shell," Bard said. "You have a remarkable woman, one any man would desire."

"Well then they can 'ave 'er. I certainly isn't going to try any harder to get through to 'er than _she_ does, so _there_," Alfrid retorted as the three went to the deer and began prepping it to take back home. "See if I care if the elven _king_ wants 'er! I'd hand 'er off to even Iluvatar without protest."

"Hold on, what's that over there?" Percy remarked, pointing towards something glittering in the trees. He started towards it. Now equally curious, Bard and Alfrid followed. Percy knelt down and gasped, picking it up. It was a gorgeous necklace! He would bring it back to his wife as a gift for their anniversary, he determined, if he could. Considering the others agreed.

"There's more," Bard said, eyes wide. The others looked and gasped. In the trees was a chest filled with gems!

Alfrid was, of course, across the forest and beside the chest in a second, looking at it with wide eyes. "This must be worth more a fortune than what we already 'ave!" he exclaimed, turning to look back at the other two. His call was answered by an arrow whizzing past where his head had been, embedding itself into the tree instead!

"Orcs!" Percy cried out in terror. Sure enough, from the forest raced a group of orcs.

"Run!" Bad ordered. Three men with little more than blunt swords and hunting bows could not take on a company of orcs no matter _how_ hard they tried. Immediately they tried to retreat, Alfrid of course grabbing the heavy chest. He would _be_ the one not to leave it even at the risk of life. They almost cursed him out for it, but there was no time to bother.

LotR

The three men ran towards the boat, Bard shooting arrows back into the orcs whenever he could. It almost looked like they were going to make it… Until Percy cried out in pain as an orc's arrow got him in the thigh. He fell to the ground. Immediately Bard stopped and went to go back to him. "No! Keep going!" Percy cried out to him.

"I don't think so, Percy," Bard replied, returning to his friend and helping him up. "Come on, you have a wife to go home to."

"And you have children! Please, take this necklace and give it to her to remember me, but for Valar sake, go on without me!" Percy urgently insisted. He knew full well there was no chance they would make it if Bard stayed to help him.

"Alfrid, help us!" Bard called out after the other. Did he believed Alfrid would bother? Not a chance in Mandos's Halls. Sure enough…

Alfrid looked back, hesitating only for the briefest of moments before shaking his head. Like hell he was risking death for those two. Besides, more treasure for him. He continued to the boat, depositing the chest of gems and shoving off. "Alfrid!" Percy called after him desperately, though he had little in the way of hope that the other would return.

"Don't you dare! Alfrid, get back here!" Bard shouted as the orcs drew ever closer.

Alfrid began paddling away, paying them no heed. "Bard, leave me! I am an old man, boy, you have a lifetime ahead of you!" Percy insisted. His friend could still make it dammit. If only he would let go! Of course Bard did no such thing.

"We will make it out together or not at all, my friend," Bard vowed. He quickly helped Percy up into a tree then turned to fight the orcs off. It was apparent it would not go well, not with only him fighting. Though the orc company was small, it would take at _least_ two men to hold them off. Two _skilled_ men. Even had Alfrid stayed, he certainly was not skilled; but if Bard were to go down, it would be fighting to protect his friend.

LotR

Meanwhile, Alfrid drew farther from shore. The orcs were not about to allow that. Arrows followed him. Fortunately, his luck held out and all missed; but they peppered the boat. Needless to say,holes were made, and the ship, weighted down by treasure, began to sink at a much too rapid pace for Alfrid's liking. He cursed under his breath. There wasn't a chance he'd make it far, and besides, the orcs still shot arrows. It was getting much too much too dangerous for the coward's liking. He dove overboard, disappearing beneath the waves where the orcs couldn't see him to shoot.

Percy was now helping Bard. Or doing his best to, rather. He felt woozy, which meant that possibly the arrow that struck him had been poisoned, which meant even if they survived his chances of living had been drastically reduced. Both he and Bard knew this, and grim-faced, Bard put all his attention into the losing battle. They were being overwhelmed. They were going to die! Where was help or a distraction?

Alfrid coughed and sputtered, pulling himself up onto shore. "Hey!" he shouted angrily at the orcs, staggering up. "Hey!" he yelled again as he dripped, picking up a rock and throwing it at one's head. It turned, growling and snarling. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to you! Who do you think you is, sinking me boat with my treasure on it, huh? How _dare_ you?! I worked for that and damn me if I doesn't get me due compensation for the loss!" The orc began chortling, then began to full out laugh. The others soon joined the first until they were all hooting and hollering. Who was this worthless man to challenge them and ask his dues?!

"Alfrid, what are you doing?" Bard asked, mentally face-palming. He couldn't be serious.

"You laugh it up, you scum!" Alfrid shot at the orcs. "You isn't gonna be laughing soon! See, I saw a company of elves coming this way. About fifty of 'em!" That silenced the orcs immediately, and enraged and put them on edge. "I thought so. Why I'll bet they're the elven king's own men. _I'll_ be laughing _then_, orcish scum!" He yelped, narrowly dodging an arrow. Distant clopping was heard "I hear them coming now!" Alfrid crooned to the orcs. The orcs growled darkly.

"Kill the Elven scum!" the leader of the orcs finally commanded. The men they could come back to later. Short lifespans anyway. Elves, though, they hated above all else. Immediately the orc pack raced into the woods to seek out the elves.

LotR

"We should help the elves!" Bard exclaimed as Alfrid sauntered up to them.

"Oh come off it. There weren't no elves," Alfrid stated.

Bard and Percy sharply looked over at him. "No elves? But the clopping," Percy replied.

"'Ere's your clopping," Alfrid said, producing two sticks of ivory out from under his cape. He clacked them together.

"But you said you saw…" Bard began. He trailed off, understanding coming to his eyes. He smirked. "It was a lie," he realized in amazement. Percy started, looking at Alfrid in surprise. Not surprised he'd lied, of course, that was a daily thing, but surprised he'd bothered for the sake of others besides himself.

"Of course it was," Alfrid confirmed.

"You could have helped fight," Percy remarked.

Alfrid sighed in annoyance. "Listen 'ere, old man. I isn't a man of war or battle. I'm no valiant hero of bold Lakeman. Even if I _wanted_ to I couldn't fight for the life of me. All I 'ave is me words. They're all I've _ever_ 'ad. Me words are my weapon, and my schmoozing. Would never have survived in this bloody place without them. They've served me well they 'ave, and they'll continue serving me better than any weapon ever will. Strength through guile and lies and all that there stuff. I'm a professional adapter, a chameleon."

"That you certainly are, Alfrid," Percy replied, tone for a moment pained as he felt the poison working.

"You came back," Bard said, amazement in his eyes and a touched look. Alfrid looked dubiously over at him. "You came back," Bard repeated.

"Well not like I 'ad much of a choice now, is it?" Alfrid replied.

"I'm not so sure," Bard answered.

"Keep thinkin' that. Fact of the matter is the boat was sinking and it was raining arrows. Wasn't any way to _get_ out other than to come back." Alfrid answered.

"Well, it is still afloat yet. We must patch it quickly and get to the mouth of the Great River Running. Percy is poisoned. We have no skilled healers ready to tend the poisons orcs typically use. The elves, I fear, may be his only hope. They will not begrudge us." Alfrid was doubtful, but then he always was. Besides, he really had no choice. He nodded and, leaving Percy on the beach, they went to retrieve and salvage the boat.

LotR

The boat drew up to the elven shores where the Wood Elves played and sang, or moved through the trees and around their houses scattered thereabouts. They looked upon the newcomers in curiosity. The bargeman they had seen, the other two no. The occasional, and rare, elfling popped their head out from behind their parents to survey the newcomers in fascination. Bard pulled ashore. "Is anyone here a healer? Please, my friend has been poisoned by an orcish arrow, he needs help!" he called out to the elves.

None of them moved, instead muttering amongst themselves. "Come on, you lot, he hasn't got all day!" Alfrid sharply shot at them. They frowned disdainfully at Alfrid then looked at Percy. Soon one stepped forward. "We will bring you to the palace," he stated. "The best of our healers reside there. The king, besides, will want to hear of how near this orc company is."

"Thank you," Percy weakly said to the elf. Said elf bowed his head gracefully and beckoned some of his fellows over to help transport Percy to safety. Thranduil had commanded all courtesy be extended to the men of Esgaroth and Lake Town. Whether bringing them to the palace counted or not they were unsure, but they would soon see.

Soon enough they found themselves before the King's throne while Percy was brought to the healing rooms. Alfrid gawked around the grand palace in disbelief. How in the world could a cave be made this _awe-inspiring_? "I am again in your debt, King Thranduil," Bard said to the Elvenking, bowing low to him.

"I hold you to no debt," Thranduil answered, waving his hand dismissively. "You have brought news of a nearby orc company, and that is enough to off-set whatever inconvenience may be brought up with your arrival."

"Like what?" Alfrid demanded.

Thranduil cast him a dark look. "Like filthy little mortals who have no place knowing where the palace of the Elvenking rests and who all of my judgement says kill before I become like to elven lords and kings of old who fell to treachery and loose lips. Here I have prided myself for ages on learning from the mistakes of others, yet now I am making one of my own," he answered. Alfrid cringed and decided he was probably better off shutting up and sticking close to Bard. Muttering, he began wandering around the area examining the carvings and makings of the cave.

"He has as much trouble trusting as you," Bard lamely defended for Alfrid.

"So it would seem. This man, he is the one of whom you spoke to Dain and I about?" Thranduil questioned.

"He is," Bard confirmed.

"You will have a harder time than I expected," Thranduil dryly said.

"It is only his nature, your majesty," Bard replied.

"Never say 'only' one's nature. One's nature can mean the rise and fall and conquer and conquest of empires and kingdoms and all manner of things," Thranduil said.

Bard nodded, silent. He looked at Thranduil. "Will Percy be alright?" he questioned.

"Your friend will survive, of that you can be sure," Thranduil promised. "My men will escort you back to Dale as protection in case the orcs should return."

"Thank you, Thranduil," Bard gratefully said. Thranduil nodded.


	4. Connection

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: A couple days ago another chapter went up for anyone who missed it. This chapter probably isn't my best, and the teaching bit is pretty inaccurate probably, but hopefully you enjoy. Reviews have been and are much appreciated.)

Connection

It was late when finally the three men returned to Dale with the elven guards. People were gathered there, anxiously awaiting the return of the Lord of Dale and his companions. Well, of Percy. No one could have cared less whether or not Alfrid made it back or not. Bard's children ran to him immediately. "Da!" Sigrid exclaimed.

"Da!" Tilda echoed.

"Da, we thought you were gone!" Bain exclaimed in relief as he too hugged his father. Percy's wife fell into his arms immediately with a gasp, shaking, for she had noted the dressed wound and feared the worst. He held her tightly, cooing reassuringly to the woman and giving her the necklace he had picked up. Hilda, of course, was right out front of the rest of the people, glowering darkly at Alfrid.

"You just 'ad to come back, didn't you, Lickspittle?" Hilda complained to Alfrid.

"Be happy, wench, I brought you more gold to spend on frivolities," Alfrid bit at her. They really should at least try and put on a _show_ of happiness. Ah forget it, they wouldn't be fooling anybody.

"Leave me the gold and go get yourself drowned in the lake," she said.

"Shove it up your…" Alfrid began. Bard cleared his throat loudly and Alfrid trailed off, grumbling under his breath.

"He came back for us, Hilda. He deserves something of credit. Orcs set upon us. Percy and I were outnumbered and doomed. He returned to shore, after an attempt at fleeing, and managed to divert them long enough for us to mend the boat and sail upriver to Mirkwood. We owe our lives to him," Bard firmly defended. Alfrid started, honestly a little flattered at the defense he had been given. Hilda looked shocked, as did most of the other citizens of Laketown. There was silence.

"Hurry up and grab the gold. Dinner needs to be shopped for and general shopping needs to be done," Hilda finally said to Alfrid in annoyance, breaking said silence. Continuing to mutter and grumble, Alfrid did as he was told and sulkily followed his wife, imagining from behind all the ways he could be rid of her without consequence. She glanced over at him, Bard's report still playing in her mind. It was a surprise to hear, honestly, but didn't change the fact he'd tried to flee without them. Probably only came back when he knew he wouldn't make it alone.

LotR

"Oh I'll be a 'appy woman when you're dead and gone, Alfrid Lickspittle," Hilda nattered at him as they went through town, her in her little snit. He wasn't really paying attention, focused on the scent he had started to smell in the air. It was… intoxicating. He decided he should very much like to meet whatever lady was wearing it. Not that he'd stand a chance with her, but one could dream. "What are you sniffing at like a dog?" she demanded.

"The scent in the air," Alfrid replied. "Haven't smelled it since that day you broke a perfume bottle in our fight. Just wondering where it came from." And who.

She glared back at him. "Oh you daft wanker, _I'm_ wearing it!" she shot. He started at that, all pleasant and wild imaginations and visions that had been in his mind of a beautiful lady who would actually give him a second glance instantly vanishing. Sure enough, as he was getting closer to her the scent was more apparent. And no less intoxicating. The daydreams and romances he was imagining up certainly weren't as pleasurable, though. He grimaced as he tried putting her face to them. Nope. Wasn't going to happen. "Now take these bags and keep on your following. At least look like you're a decent gentleman who spares a thought to 'is wife every so often."

"I could ask the same of you!" Alfrid defended.

"I'm taking you shopping, isn't I? About time we make our 'ome presentable and livable! Place is a shambles. Needs new furnishings and drapes and everything," Hilda said. "A shopping trip is a lovely way to give the illusion we can stand each other. You do your part and I'll do mine!"

"Bah, hagraven," he bit. She huffed.

LotR

She selected some drapes from a stall, looking them over. They weren't bad. "What do you think of this for the den?" she questioned Alfrid. Not that she could take his opinion for much. Then again he _had_ lived with the Master of Laketown. He'd probably been surrounded by plenty of lovely things.

"Ugly," he said. She glared at him. "They're too dark, Hilda. Come on, we can do better than that," Alfrid said. "Might as well make the best of living in Dale. Much brighter place than Esgaroth." Though to be honest he preferred the dark of Esgaroth by far.

"I suppose," Hilda reluctantly agreed, putting them down and picking up something lighter. "Ah, 'ere we are," she said.

"Prefer the light green shade. More neutral, reflects the view of the forest better," Alfrid said.

"Since when do you know anything about style, Alfrid?" Hilda demanded.

"Obviously know better than _you_ do," he replied.

"Bah," she said, but he made a point. "Fine, we'll take it. 'Ow much?"

"Nine gold shillings," the vendor replied.

Hilda inwardly grimaced. She couldn't count that high. Cringing, she put down a handful of coins hoping it was right. She didn't want to give Alfrid the satisfaction of seeing her wrong… But she had little choice. "Count it out for me, please," she meekly said to the man who ran the shop.

The man looked incredulously at her then smirked, taking the money. "One, two, three, four, five, eight, ten, seven, six, twelve, fourteen, thirty, twenty, nineteen, nine," he counted.

Hilda shifted uneasily. That didn't seem right. At all. But she couldn't honestly say she was certain he hadn't been counting right. Damn. What was she to do? Again, she did not want to be made a fool of, but if the man was being truthful she would make herself a fool anyway. She just didn't know. Alfrid, however, did. Annoyance and brief anger flashed to his room. "Give me those!" he sharply shot, snatching the money back and slamming it on the table. "Who do you think you are, huh?! 'Ow dare you try and pull one over on me wife! While I'm 'ere no less! I wouldn't give a damn if you was tricking 'er out of 'er own money, but this is my 'ard earned gold, you 'ear, and blast if I don't make sure I keep every shilling of it! Give her back the six pieces you stole from her now, or we take our business elsewhere!"

The man gave Alfrid such a look of hatred and anger that it actually took Hilda aback. She could have sworn the man would stab Alfrid in the throat right then and there. She almost hoped he would, but then again… Well Alfrid had just stood up for her! What sort of decent woman would she be if she pretended it never happened and didn't show a lick of gratefulness? She would show gratitude by not wishing him dead, so when the man sure as night followed day reached for the knife in his belt, she quickly pulled Alfrid back. Alfrid blinked in surprise as the knife flashed out, but quickly the man replaced it, seeing his opening gone.

"Fine, take your shillings!" the man shot in reply, tossing the money down onto the ground. All of it. "Let's see 'er pick up the six she gets back! Go on, 'ilda, 'ave at it. Count up the money you're owed." She looked down at it in horror as all eyes turned to them. "Go on! Take the money you need in return!" She didn't move. "I didn't think so! Pick it up, Alfrid. 'Bout time we saw you on your knees! Been too long since last you was humbled and humiliated."

Alfrid glared daggers at the man, scowling murderously. Why if he had his sword on him… He may not be good at it, but he knew how to hold the blasted thing and how to stab with it. He wasn't completely useless. What he knew would be all he'd need to impale this man to his own shop. Glaring, however, wasn't going to do anyone any good. Finally he huffed and knelt. Bah, should have made Hilda do it. Better her get humiliated than him. He would much prefer to be able to laugh at her than have it the other way around. He began picking up the gold. They were taking their business elsewhere. This man had blown his chance to get rich off of them.

Hilda looked down at Alfrid in shock, more than a little surprised that he had actually done it and knelt down in the dirt in front of all these people. Most of which wanted him gone and probably would have gladly taken a cheap shot at him while he was in this vulnerable position. She was even more shocked he hadn't seized her hair and thrown her down onto her knees ordering _her_ to pick them up. Probably hadn't crossed his mind, she was willing to bet. He would have taken a sick delight in doing just that if it had. She shifted uncomfortably then knelt down as well to help him pick up the gold.

"One, two, three, four, five…" she muttered under her breath, trying desperately to remember the numbers after five. Bloody hell, why couldn't she?

"Six," he murmured to her without looking up.

She glanced at him quietly and blinked. After a moment she picked it up. "Six," she recited. She picked up another, trying to remember it.

"Seven," he said.

"Seven," she repeated. She went for another.

"Ei…" Alfrid began.

"Eight," she said, giving him a sharp look. She was starting to feel like a bleedin' child.

"Ni…" Alfrid said.

"Nine," she finished, recalling it.

"Ten," he said to her, handing her a tenth. She was quiet and took it finally. "Do it again," he said. She looked up at him. "Well go on, wench."

"One, two, three, four, five… Six?" she asked. He nodded. "Sev… seven?"

"Are you asking?" he asked.

She glared at him. "Seven, eight… ten?" she questioned.

"Missing one, Hilda," he said. "Begins with an 'N'…"

"Nine! Nine _then_ ten," she said.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, ei… seven, eight, nine, ten," she said, counting each piece.

"There you go. You're getting it. Someone takes the time to teach you and it starts sinking in. Keep repeating it in your head," Alfrid said, standing up with the other five pieces. She rose as well, giving him a look that, to her disdain, held reflections of gratefulness in it. Her eyes and expression were betraying her gratitude to the miserable sod. Damn that she'd never been able to hide expression well. He was probably having a field day with this. He'd never let her live it down.

He, for his part, was surprised at the look she was giving him… he'd never seen that look from anybody before… Well, not for some time. Not counting Bard's grateful look. He usually saw annoyance and disgust. This was something new and he didn't like new. Not at all. He harrumphed and turned to the man. "Forget our buying anything from the likes of _you_ ever." He looked around at the people who were still watching in amazement. "Get back to your own business you lazy wankers, all of you! Next one who tries to cheat me wife or I out of our—my—'ard earned money will be paying through the nose!" The crowds, murmuring, drifted off. "Come on, let's move on," Alfrid said, urging Hilda along.

"Stupid whore of a woman," the man behind the stall muttered.

Alfrid spun sharply on him. "'Ey, you keep your tongue in your yap when speaking about me wife! _I'm_ the only one who gets to make 'er cry, and until I do blast anyone else who attempts it, you understand me?" he demanded. Though to be fair he'd made her cry once already that day they fought in the marketplace. The man said nothing to the belittling. He had, you see, noticed Bard standing by and looking dangerously at him, Percy at his back. Alfrid and Hilda continued on.

"And so it begins," Percy muttered to Bard.

"We can only hope," Bard replied.

LotR

They were both surprisingly quiet as they continued their shopping trip, speaking only when they needed to discuss furnishings or décor. They finally came to a shop that sold clothing. She paused, looking at it. "Don't even think about it," Alfrid bit.

"Why not? I 'ave as much a right to look nice as anyone," she replied.

"Nothing you put on is going to 'elp you, Hilda Bianca," Alfrid insulted.

"Bah, Alfrid Lickspittle you're a lizard!" she shot, marching into it anyway.

"'Ey, 'ey get back 'ere! I said no clothes, woman!" Alfrid shot, pursuing her.

"We're plenty rich enough to afford it. I doesn't see why I can't have nice things like other women in town, some with 'ardly a cent to their names!" Hilda argued, turning to him and walking backwards. She turned around to look at some of the dresses. "I'm shopping 'ere whether you like it or not, so either you sit down and shut up or you go 'ome or keep shopping and pretend this isn't 'appening."

"I'd rather take option B, thank you! Any moment I can convince meself I isn't with you is a moment in paradise!" Alfrid yelled.

"Then be gone, Alfrid Lickspittle. Who needs you? Not me!" she shot.

"You're like a kick in the teeth, you know that?" Alfrid demanded of her. "Fine, chase your fruitless dreams!" Furiously he turned on his heel and stormed out.

"Good riddance!" Hilda yelled after him. She turned to the shopkeeper. "Bring me your finest please," she said in her most pleasant voice. Well, as pleasant as she could get it after a confrontation with Alfrid Lickspittle.

LotR

Hilda looked over the selection of gowns. They were all so beautiful… She hardly was worthy to wear _any_ of them… She was ugly, after all, and stupid. These were gowns for beautiful well-educated maidens with bright futures ahead of them and eyes that would make a man melt, followed by lines of suitors. Sadness and pain were in her eyes as she willed back tears. "Take 'em away," she said, turning her head from the dresses. Like she said, she wasn't worthy. She'd settle for something more her class.

"Hilda, don't be afraid to try something a _little_ different," the shopkeeper said, smiling sympathetically at her and laying out more gowns.

"Don't give me that," Hilda said.

"Be bold. You're a rich woman now," the shopkeeper insisted.

"You just want the gold," Hilda said, smirking dryly. "Very well." The woman took away the lower end things and left the ones that were on the upper side of the middle end scale. Browsing through them, Hilda's eyes rested on one of the gowns. It wasn't too plain and yet wasn't too stunning either. It was attractive enough without being awe-inspiring. It could do. She picked it up, looking it over. She went behind a changing curtain and donned the dress. Soon she came out again and stood in front of the mirror. Her eyes widened at the change. It was lovely! Not too much, not too little, but just right. The color brought out her eyes and accented her hair, the hem of the dress was higher than what she usually wore, revealing more ankle; a sort of wilder type of dress. It was cut low enough to reveal not a lot so as to be immodest, but enough that it could be noticeable. And it had shorter sleeves than most of the things she owned.

"You look lovely, Hilda," the shopkeeper said. Hilda looked herself over. She did at that. "Let me get some shoes for you," The shopkeeper said. She left then returned with a pair, laying them down. "Wear these ones with it," the shopkeeper said, pointing at the sandals. Hilda looked at them a moment then slipped them on. They really did go well with it, didn't they?

"There we are, now let's get your hair up and try some jewelry. Oh the men in the town will be all over you by the time we're done. Make up as well," the woman excitedly said, hurrying off. Hilda nearly took off the dress and walked out. This wasn't what she was used to. It all scared her a good deal. Before she could do so, though, the shopkeeper was back and was already putting up her hair in a perfect style to match the gown. Hilda sat quietly, watching her transformation. It wasn't even much, just a few accents here and there, but it was enough, and it did a world of difference. She firmly believed the woman could handle it. Soon the hair was done. Now the jewelry, and the jeweler had a stunning display of beautiful things; necklace, earning's, rings, bracelets, anklets, et cetera. Hilda sat back and waited for it to be complete.

LotR

Alfrid waited outside of the shop in annoyance. He'd tried to continue shopping but had figured out bloody quickly that furniture shopping was out of the picture without his wife, thanks to a conversation with a haggard husband who had dared purchase something without his wife's input. So instead he'd stocked up on food and whatnot for the pantry. A few books as well of varying difficulties for in case Hilda decided she wanted to get smart and learn. She certainly had the time now that the city was better off. Still had to work, but not as frantically, and the people were wealthy. Well, wealthier now, at least, than they were. Her especially what with being married to him and all.

"Alfrid? I thought you was shopping,' Hilda's voice said from behind.

"Ugh, _finally_ you…" he began, turning. He dropped off, forgetting what he'd been in the process of saying when he saw her, though his mouth hung agape in disbelief. "_Hilda_?!" he finally managed to exclaim. Or was this some woman who just looked like her that he'd met in the past and forgotten? Oh who was he kidding? He wouldn't forget a woman like this. Wait, this was her he reminded himself. Suddenly, forgetting her seemed much more appealing.

She glared at him. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

He looked over her, not quite hearing. This change in appearance shocked him. Genuinely and completely. He hadn't _begun_ to think she could clean up like this. She was washed and proper now, clean as could be. Her hair was done up right nicely, it was, and was she actually wearing makeup? It didn't make her look all that different, but it enhanced her appearance well. To say nothing of the dress. Why, he'd never seen her wear something like that _ever_!"

It took her a full minute to realize he was speechless and checking her out. Speechless? _Alfrid_? Why it was unheard of! Though… to be fair _she'd_ been speechless as well when she'd seen the change. She smirked coldly and amusedly at the same time. "Well, spit it out. What do you think?" she asked, spinning around.

The dress flared out as she did, flashing a good bit of leg. Huh, who knew she had nice ones? Wait a minute, what was he thinking? No, he wasn't going there.

"You look right nice, I'll admit that, but Hilda, I don't think you _needed_ all the makeup and wardrobe changes to look like something decent, respectable, and presentable," he finally answered. "How much did the bleeding makeover _cost_?"

"That's none of your business, Alfrid Lickspittle," she answered.

"It's me money, it's me business!" he argued.

"It cost a good twenty coins, it did! For the whole thing. She's the honest sort. She counted it out right. She told me twenty was two tens so I counted to ten twice, like you taught me. It was right, I'm sure of it," Hilda replied.

Alfrid blinked and cursed the bit of pride he felt inside of him. She'd actually taken his lesson to heart. Quickly he banished that sense of pride. "Bah, a bleedin' rip off, that it was," he said. He noted many a man's eyes suddenly much more interested in his wife. "Let's get out of 'ere," he grumbled, taking her arm and leading her away from the shop. Believe him, it wasn't jealousy. More annoyance, than anything, because right now she was his only lifeline to Dale. She took off, he lost all reason to be here and he was out no matter what Bard may say. He wasn't about to get himself tossed out of the city so soon, so she'd better not be eyeballing any other chap for a good while yet. At least not until he could come up with a plan for where to go once she was finally out of his life. Dead by his hand or off with another man.

"Oh come off it," she replied.

"You can go running off with another man after I've established meself elsewhere, but not a moment before," Alfrid replied.

"Why would I run off with another man when I'm married? I'm a respectable woman, Alfrid Lickspittle. I'm willing to bet you're the more likely to go runnin' off!" she shot.

"Well that's where you're wrong! I wouldn't give you the bleedin' satisfaction!" Alfrid shot. "Besides, don't clean up nice as you. I isn't getting second looks now, I wouldn't be getting' them later."

"Fix that damned unibrow of yours and the stoop and you might have better odds," she replied.

"I isn't changing me looks for _any_ woman. They're a part of me and that's all there is to it," Alfrid said. "Too much emphasis on beauty these days anyway. Got the brunt end of _that_ in Mirkwood, what with the way all them blasted elves looked at me. Would think I had the plague or something of the sort."

"Changed looks or no changed looks, you'd still be the same Alfrid Lickspittle, swine of the earth and scum of the scum," she said.

"Nicest thing you've said to me yet," Alfrid sarcastically replied, sneering at her.

"It weren't meant that way, believe you me," Hilda replied as they continued shopping for furniture. "Besides, it wouldn't kill you to clean up now, would it?"

"Bah!" Alfrid replied. "It isn't all about beauty, you know."

"No, but it's about pride," Hilda replied.

"I have no pride," Alfrid said.

"No surprise there," Hilda deadpanned.


	5. Wildmen

**Second and Last Chance**

Wildmen

"49… 50!" Hilda exclaimed, finally finishing the counting exercise.

"You could find your way from there, Hilda. Repeats the same pattern over and over. The next ten is 60, then 70, then 80, then 90, then 100," Alfrid said, pointing them out on the numerical table he'd drawn up for her. "Practice finding your way to 100 and we'll move onto more reading and a little writing." She was already muttering the numbers out loud as she drew her finger along the table. She was a fast learner, he'd give her that. Amazingly fast. But then the woman was stubborn as a mule and determined as all getup to make herself self-sufficient and educated. Maybe once she was she'd realize what a stupid move this marrying him was and finally take off out of his life. Of course without a word of gratitude for all he was wasting his time teaching her.

He was still amazed she'd asked _him_. Amazed, but he wouldn't say surprised given the average intelligence of the people of Dale had peaked at learning to count a fair number of fish and clean them up. Under Bard, though, these people were fast improving their mental skills. Elves were coming regularly to share their wisdom and do a bit of teaching to a choice few men who would then pass it on. Was like the old days he'd heard about in them ancient stories from goodness knew how long ago, but the elves wouldn't keep coming forever. They needed to be sufficient for themselves.

"100!" she cheered gleefully, snapping him out of his thoughts. She had leapt to her feet in excitement. "I can count to 100! Oh Alfrid, I never thought I'd be able to! Thank you!" she exclaimed, suddenly and spontaneously hugging him tightly.

"Oof!" he exclaimed. "Ack, crushing. Let go of me, woman, before you break me back with those meaty arms of yours!" he demanded, shoving her off of him. She was too excited to even realize she'd just been insulted. Good. He wondered how many more insults he could fit in before she came back to herself. Huh. He didn't have any on hand at the moment, he realized. Wasn't really in an insulting mood. Wait. She'd thanked him. _That_ was a rarity. "Going to have to bathe now," he grumbled.

"Not before _I_ do, Lickspittle," Hilda replied, standing up. She'd just realized, you see, what she'd done, and already she felt slimy as all getup.

"Oh I don't think so! I'm going first!" he insisted.

"Not on your life! I wouldn't bathe after you if me life depended on it!" she shot.

"And I wouldn't bathe after _you_!" he barked.

"Then I suppose we'll just have to bathe together?! Hah! I don't think so!" she yelled. "Ladies first, wanker!"

"Go wash your mouth out with poison, hagraven!" he said in retort. Suddenly the insulting mood was back.

"Bah!" they both said together, throwing up their hands and storming off in opposite directions.

LotR

It was a miracle, but in the end Alfrid won the argument. She figured she owed it to him to let him have the day, given the help he'd been giving her with her numbers and writing and reading. For what reason he was helping her she wasn't sure. She didn't know if she _wanted_ to know. She suspected it was because he was sick of her sounding like a fool whenever she opened her mouth, and being taken advantage of for it. Not because of any concern for her, Alfrid cared for very little besides himself, but because it humiliated _him_. How embarrassed he must feel to know he had such a stupid wife.

"Muttering to yourself again, Hilda?" Alfrid said, coming out of the bathroom as she was kneading dough for bread.

"Oh bugger off," she grumbled, glaring back at him. Had she said all of that out loud? "Go put some clothes on," she said, noting he was only wearing a towel at the moment. Hmm, surprisingly good shape and form for a stooped stoolpigeon. Not that he had any sign of any sort of abdominal muscle, but he kind of did. A better build, in fact, than she'd ever imagined hid under all those clothes he wore. He shrugged and headed up the stairs. She turned back to her dough. She'd have to get new bathwater, she said to herself. This time ensuring it was said in her head.

"You isn't stupid, Hilda. If you was I wouldn't 'ave been able to get you counting passed ten. You just never got the education you could 'ave," Alfrid said to her from upstairs. "But I'll give you that you sound like a fool and get taken advantage of far too often. Fortunately that isn't going to be for much longer if I 'ave any say in it. Spare us both embarrassment."

Damn, she'd said it all out loud, she realized. Oh well, weren't nothing to be done for it now. "You should wear your hair in a ponytail more often," she said after him, changing the subject. "It suits you, you know."

"Oh come off it," he replied.

"It does!" she insisted. "Course if you actually kept your hair cleaned and decent it would look fine down too."

"I have no intentions of doing either!" he called back to her. "Where are me clothes, woman?!"

"In the wash, just put something else on!" she called back.

"I only wear me regulars!" he shouted back.

"Well not today, you doesn't!" she retorted in anger and annoyance.

"Orc spawn!" he shot.

"Worm slime!" she shouted back.

LotR

He came down in a huff, anger flashing in his eyes. She looked over at him. "There you go. That looks much better than your usual garb," she said.

"Who said you could shop for me?!" he demanded.

"Well you wasn't shopping for yourself!" she barked back. "Besides, it suits you it does. Take a look at yourself."

"I isn't denying it suits me," he reluctantly grumbled. It did. If anything he looked more normal now, better able to blend in. He wore a white shirt with ties around the neckline to loosen or tighten according to the temperature. The doeskin breeches and boots weren't a horrible fit either, he had to admit to himself as he looked them over. Still… "I look like a bleedin' hunter or miner," he grumbled.

"That you do," she answered. "Throw on the coat and you'll look more like the nobleman you only _wish_ you could be."

"Bullocks to you!" Alfrid barked, but nonetheless he put said coat on.

"There you go," she said, though she hadn't seen him yet. She turned and caught her breath. Well, she hadn't expected it to look _that_ different. When she said it suited him she hadn't been kidding. Apparently she had quite the eye for style too, despite what he'd said. Not that he looked good, he was beyond that point far as she was concerned, but he looked… different. In a good way… Oh who was she kidding? He looked better than she thought he could.

"Oh quit your gawkin'," he said.

"I wasn't gawking!" she defended, immediately going on the angered defensive.

"Like heck you wasn't!" he shot.

"Oh look who's talking," she sneered at him. "Seem to recall _you_ was stricken _speechless_. After me bath and the bread, I'm going out with the other ladies in town."

"To do what?" he asked.

"To do what ladies do, Alfrid. And that isn't none of your business," she replied. She stuck the bread in the oven then headed into the bathroom. Ugh, she couldn't be bothered draining the water after all.

LotR

She leaned back in the bath and gave a contented sigh. It was just the right temperature. She should get Alfrid to bathe ahead of her more often. He spent just enough time in the water for it to cool to the temperature _she_ preferred. Usually it was too hot. Of course now it ran the risk of getting too cold, but that was unimportant. She could just add warm water if it did. She'd have to go a good long ways to bring back a bucket of cold. Though she supposed she could just keep buckets in here for such occasions. Then again who was to say they would be enough to adjust the temperature either way?

There was knocking at the door. She heard Alfrid opening it to someone. She heard voices. She didn't think much of them… At least not until she heard a crash and a cry of pain. Namely Alfrid's. She sat up straight, looking quickly over at the door to the bathroom. There was thumping and crashing now, as if there were some sort of struggle happening. "Alfrid?!" she called out, starting to rise from the bath.

Suddenly the bathroom door was thrown open. She gasped as her husband raced in. Quickly she sank back down under the water. Alfrid slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it, alarm and fear in his eyes. There was a crash against it and he yelped, moving back from the door quickly. "What the bloody 'ell is 'appning?!" she demanded, more than a little alarmed by this.

"You doesn't want to know," Alfrid said, and there was very real alarm in his voice.

"Alfrid Lickspittle, if you don't…" she began.

"An attack in the city!" Alfrid shot sharply. "A group of wildmen lookin' to do some lootin'."

Her eyes widened in alarm as the door was body checked again and again. Quickly Alfrid backed up, nervousness in his eyes. The man was screaming various curses and threats, the least of which was not 'I'm going to kill you and' insert various threats towards Hilda and what he would do to her here.

"I'll give you the wench free of charge!" Alfrid called back. That got him splashed angrily. "Oh come on, he isn't going to take it anyway!" Alfrid shot. "You wasn't the one that just blinded 'im!"

"You did something right?" she demanded.

"Through my brave acts…" Alfrid began.

"Don't even," she warned.

He blinked then cringed. "When we was fighting I accidentally put a red hot poker in front of 'is eyes," Alfrid grumbled.

"An accident. I should 'ave known it," Hilda said.

"Oh save it for someone who cares!" he shot. She rose quickly from the bathtub. So much for relaxing. "What are you _doing_?!" he exclaimed in horror once he realized she was wearing nothing but the skin she was born in. And was right in front of him. He could have screamed 'my eyes' just to infuriate her, but truth be told he wasn't finding the sight entirely unpleasant.

"One of us 'as to be the man around 'ere!" she shot sharply, wrapping a towel around herself and picking up a lengthy knife she always kept nearby.

He quickly moved, seizing her wrist and pulling the knife away. "Are you crazy? You 'ave any idea what they'll do to you if you go out there?!" he demanded.

"What do you care?!" she demanded.

"I don't! I care what 'appens to _me_! You go out there and get yourself molested, it's problems all around, it is! I couldn't defend you from them if me _life_ depended on it, which it does, and you can't take 'em all on! And even if we could through some miracle work it out together, it still wouldn't be enough and you and I both know it! I'd end up dead, you'd end up raped, and the whole thing would be a mess!" he said.

"I isn't pretty enough for them to bother with assaulting," she grumbled.

"That ain't ow minds like that work!" Alfrid insisted. "Even if you was a _dog_ to look at, which you isn't, you wouldn't have to be good looking! If you have parts down there, that's all they need! It's done to assert dominance, Hilda, it ain't a 'this woman looks decent enough to sleep with' thing! Appearance is nothing to them."

LotR

For a moment she looked unsure and her gaze went to the door that was still being banged on. Alfrid backed away from it father. "Then what do we do?" she asked.

"Wait it out and 'ope someone who can fight gets 'ere?" Alfrid lamely offered.

"What's that going to do for us?!" she demanded.

"Precious little," he answered. "Especially if 'e keeps this up… Wait… He don't know you're 'ere… If he does, I can convince 'im otherwise."

"What is you getting at?" she whispered.

He looked around. "Alright, that'll work. Get yourself 'idden in this closet 'ere," he said, quickly leading her to the closet and opening it.

"But what's the plan?" she asked.

"Let 'im get in and attack me," Alfrid replied. "You 'ave the weapon. When 'e 'as me on the ground, get your sorry arse out of there and stab 'im! And please make sure you actually kill. You're better at fighting than me anyway."

"No arguing there," Hilda dryly said.

"Just… don't let me die…" he pled, and she was honestly taken aback by the vulnerability that had crept into his tone. He was a coward, she knew that, and terrified of death as anyone, even more, but this vulnerability… It was a different sort… It was… was almost like he truly believed she would let him die but was… asking for mercy, maybe? Or was he asking for someone to just care? Care about someone as useless as _him_? But… he was human just like anyone was, right? So shouldn't people care for their own?

"Oh you big baby, I isn't intending to be a widow anytime soon," she answered finally.

"We'll see," he dryly answered. He quickly shut the closet. Not a moment too soon either.

LotR

The minute he stepped away from the wardrobe, the door crashed in and the Wildman shot an arrow at him. Which he dodged behind the washtub to avoid. He looked up only for the man to tackle him and hold the blade of his sword at his neck.

"Was that a woman I heard calling?" the Wildman cooed tauntingly. "I'll bet she's a pretty thing."

"There isn't no woman 'ere," Alfrid growled despite the sword pressing disturbingly hard against his throat. "She took off the minute she realized what was 'appening, I'll bet. Without me too."

"Never trust a woman," the Wildman said.

"You 'ave no idea," Alfrid muttered.

"But I don't believe you," he said.

"Believe what you want, either way I'm a dead man. If she's 'ere she's yours. Told you I'd 'and 'er to you free of charge. If she's gone, well then you'll know I told the truth. Not that it would spare me either way," Alfrid replied.

The bandit shook his head. "Beg me for mercy," he said.

"Bite me," Alfrid sneered. Which sounded courageous but really wasn't, because if he hadn't known Hilda was in fact here, and now creeping out of the closet he saw, he most definitely would have done just that. Would have more than begged too. Would have gladly given up the secrets of Dale and the Elven kingdom in a heartbeat. Not that this rag-tag bunch stood a chance against the elves, but still.

The Wildman chuckled darkly then immediately went to slit his throat. Instead he gave a strangled cry and collapsed on top of Alfrid. Alfrid yelped in pain and groaned, looking passed the dead man on top of him. "I did it!" Hilda exclaimed.

"Good for you, now get me out from under 'im!" Alfrid demanded. She gasped and quickly went to do so. Suddenly, though, another Wildman ran in and seized her from behind. She shrieked in fear as she was lifted off of the ground. "What the… Hilda!" Alfrid exclaimed in alarm.

"Put me down, you brute, put me down!" she screamed, fear now giving way to anger as she furiously pounded on whoever was trying to carry her away to deflower her or some other such ridiculous poetic term for the thing. Alfrid struggled to roll the heavy body off of him. Preferably before he ended up dead. Luckily Hilda had moved it part way off. He managed to scramble out from under it and seize her knife.

"Who do you think you are?!" he demanded of the Wildman taking his wife away. Huh, he was trying—and failing might he add, she certainly didn't need no knight in shining armor. She was her own hero it seemed—to be a hero. Bollucks to heroes. He didn't care for them. He much preferred cowards. "Put 'er down before I kill you!"

The man glared at him then began to chuckle. Hilda took the opportunity to bite down on his arm. Hard. He yowled in pain, dropping her. She turned quickly, scrambling back. He drew his sword and went to kill them both… Then an arrow pierced him and he fell dead. Gawking, Alfrid and Hilda looked at the body in disbelief, then up.

"Bard!" Hilda exclaimed, expression of horror quickly becoming a wide and excited grin.

"About time you got 'ere," Alfrid said to him.

"Are you two alright?" he demanded.

"We're fine," Hilda assured. "What about the people?"

"The Wildmen have been taken care of, but there are a great many injuries," Bard answered. "Fortunately, there are no casualties." He looked the two over curiously. "You fended them off this long?"

"With me words," Alfrid said.

"And me knife," Hilda proudly pointed out. Her ego was still stroked by Alfrid saying she handled a weapon better than him. Of course that wasn't saying much, but given it had been a man admitting to a woman that she was better than him in something he was supposed to be trained in and excel at was an ego stroke in itself.

"And you're alright?" Bard asked.

"More or less," Alfrid grumbled. Bard appeared relieved to hear it, nodding at them. He noticed Hilda's towel, which had slipped, and suddenly found himself blushing furiously. Stammering out some sort of apology or other that they couldn't hear, he was quick to beat a hasty retreat, dragging one of the bodies with him.

Alfrid glanced over at Hilda and saw why Bard had been so flustered. He blinked then went to the other body. Best he help Bard with this so Hilda could get descent or get back in the bath, whichever she was in the mood for now. He smelled something burning. "Hilda, get the bread!" he called to her. He heard her curse and saw her streak from the bathroom to save the food. He blinked blankly. Well, that was… no, he really had no words for it… He shrugged at Bard's curious expression then went back inside. The bread was saved, and she was currently in the process of sheepishly wrapping herself up in a towel again, realizing what she'd done. He made no comment. Just sat down and took a slice of bread to eat. She pattered back into the bathroom to finish her bath. No inconvenience was keeping her from relaxing, not now not ever. He couldn't help but smirk at her determination.


	6. In Defense

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Hilda's allusions to Alfrid being able to look good are in reference to his actor, Ryan Gage. Who actually looks pretty good, and in some of his roles looks downright amazing.)

In Defense

"Chose a mortal life, did she? All for the man she loved," Hilda remarked after finally finishing the story Alfrid had been working with her on. He had been teaching her to read from this book for a good long while now, helping her through hard parts and helping her to read it herself without him. "That's the sort of love _I'll_ never experience," she bit pointedly at him.

"I could give it to you just fine I'll have you know. If I could stomach the _thought_ of it. And if you even wanted it," Alfrid snipped back.

"Oh bollucks to you, Alfrid Lickspittle," she said. She turned back to the finished book ponderously. She was actually done it. Done and she had read it all herself! Well, he helped in some parts, but still! "Thank you… For doing all of this and teaching me. But what is it you want in return?"

"Nothing until you mentioned it," he grumbled. He looked back at her. "Now that I'm thinking, though… Teach me how to fight back," he said.

"You'd be fine at it if you just 'ad the guts, you know. To fight good you need courage and at least a little skill," Hilda answered.

"Well courage I don't got, so I'll have to settle for you!" he shot.

She looked at him challengingly then sighed. "Why do you want to suddenly know how to fight, Alfrid?" she asked. There had to be a reason for it, after all. A man didn't just up and wake one day wanting to learn to fight.

"Seeing as I gots a family now, I figure I should know how to defend you," he answered. Family. Word felt strange in his mouth. He didn't like it. Especially when it applied to Hilda.

"What have the mean boys in town been telling you, 'love'?" she asked, condescendingly smirking.

He blushed faintly. "No more than usual," he mumbled.

"You expect me to believe you've taken this task upon yourself for your own honor? Bah, you gots no honor to lose," she replied.

"Blast it woman, just do as I say! You owe me anyway," he shot. "I set me mind to learning to protect meself and you and I'm going to do it!"

"I doesn't need your protection Alfrid Lickspittle," she replied.

"'Course you doesn't. Truth be told I need your protection more than you need mine, but that don't mean one day you won't want it," he said. His protection, that was.

She started and looked at him in surprise. That actually had to be the most… she was loathe to say sweet, but… it was probably the most roman… Oh heck no! It was just him schmoozing, that was all. Still… "Did you just sweet talk me, or was it an accident?" she asked.

"Sweet talk?" he asked. Wait… His eyes widened. He _had_! He'd just sweet talked his _wife_! Funny how he shouldn't be horrified by that but was. "I _did_!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"And quite well at that," she said, smirking.

"Don't you be getting any ideas, Hilda Bianca," he warned.

"Oh don't flatter yourself," she replied. He chuckled. "Very well then, I'll teach you a thing or two about fighting back. Tip one, play dirty. That should be no trouble for you whatsoever." That lesson opening, she went on to teach him what she knew. Which admittedly wasn't much, but was certainly more than he knew.

LotR

It had been a good few hours of intensive lessons for both of them. She had left Alfrid practicing some of the things she had taught him and went off to visit her friends in Dale. Now she was discussing the town gossip with them and having a lovely time at it. She went over a mental checklist of what they would need. Alfrid needed another new pair of clothes. The ones he had were getting old and run-down. The new ones were good, the ones she'd bought him not long ago, but he couldn't very well do with one set of clothes his whole life. He had said he would buy groceries, so she needn't worry about that. "So, did you do it?" one of her friends suddenly asked her.

Snapped out of her thoughts, Hilda blinked. What did her friend mean? "Beg pardon?" she asked.

"You know, when you brought up his mother," another friend said.

Hilda blinked then started, remembering the last conversation she'd had with this lot about Alfrid. "I hasn't gotten to it," she lied. She had taken her fair share of digs at Alfrid's mother before. None of them had ever ended well. She was a sensitive topic for him. Extraordinarily so… Just like her father was with her…

"Who was his father, I wonder?" one of the women said.

"Probably whoever 'e was raped the poor woman and impregnated her with Alfrid. Would explain why she didn't have the will to survive his birth and why Alfrid is so twisted," another woman said. Hilda shifted uneasily, not meeting the eyes of the others.

"Or his father could have died in war, young ones," Percy's wife pointed out a little more gently.

"No doubt so he wouldn't have to come back and see what little monster his wife birthed," a woman cruelly said. "Was 'e always so 'ideous?"

"He really isn't," Hilda dryly said. They looked at her oddly. "I'm married to the man, I know full well what 'e looks like, every bit of 'im. Wish I didn't, but I do," she said, frowning at them defensively. "Don't give me that look like I'm crazy. Man's got a good bit on 'im."

"You're defending him?" one of her friends asked in shock.

"I isn't defending 'im! I doesn't even like the man, but it is what it is! Me 'usband's got a good bit going for 'im if 'e'd ever think to bring it out, but 'e's decided not to bother. Wants to be genuine, 'e does, not all prettied up. And good on 'im. Looks isn't everything. Look at _me_," Hilda said frantically, wondering herself why she was so desperately defending herself and him.

"Hilda, you're beautiful," one of her friends said.

Hilda froze a long moment and looked sharply up. "I isn't anything of the kind," she replied.

"'As 'e told you that?!" one of her friends demanded, outraged. "Blessed was 'is mother when she died before seeing that beast she gave birth to!"

"Everyone's told me, not just 'im!" Hilda insisted. And by everyone she meant herself and him, she wryly noted. And even then more herself than him, who usually just took up the bait if she self-pitied herself too much. When _he_ snapped it up, she would defend herself. Hmm… why did that suddenly seem like a plan he had to get her out of funks? Was it possible… was it possible her husband knew her better than she knew him so much so he could pick up her quirks and how to deal with them? Even _she_ hadn't been paying so much attention… But then Alfrid _did_ tend to catch on to things quicker than most… Quite a bit quicker.

"Oh Hilda, half of us wishes we was as lovely as you," another of her friends said. "Alfrid knows squat. Never had a woman in his life and never will. Least not a true one. His own mum probably wouldn't have been able to stomach him even if she were alive." The others giggled cruelly.

"For Valar's sake, enough about 'is mother! She's a sensitive topic for 'im, she is!" Hilda immediately defended. "That woman loved 'er babe, I read 'er journals. She was completely devoted to that unborn child! And before you ask, Alfrid 'ad a few of 'er journals stashed away. Never let them burn in Esgaroth and always carried them. Was 'is only connection to his mother after she died. 'E never knew 'er as you well know, but that man loves 'er nonetheless. _I_ can't 'elp but love 'er after reading the things she wrote! Now stop talking about me 'usband's mother, it isn't your business or anyone's but 'is own!"

"You read?" one of her friends—one of the few more shocked by that than by the fact she'd so vehemently stood up for Alfrid—questioned.

Hilda blushed faintly. "'E's been teaching me to read and write and do math and plenty other things in exchange for me teaching 'im a bit about fighting," she murmured.

"You're getting to _like_ 'im!" one of her friends gasped in horror.

"I is _not_!" Hilda insisted. "I've developed a bit of respect and gratefulness for 'im maybe, but certainly 'aven't started liking 'im! The man disgusts me as much as ever before, just… I'm seeing another bit of him nowadays, that's all. I 'ave to go. Things to do." Quickly excusing herself, she rose and walked quickly away from her friends and down one of the streets.

LotR

As she walked, she felt a hand take her arm and looked sharply over, eyes flashing and challenging. She started on seeing who it was. "Alfrid!" she exclaimed. She was taken aback by the look in his eyes. They were tired and… was that sadness? Frankly, though, she was more surprised at how lightly he'd caught her arm.

"Thank you," he simply said to her, looking drained. She felt a chill run down her. He had heard! He'd heard it all! She swallowed, unable to speak. He let her go and started to walk away to take care of whatever business he'd been in the process of doing before waylaying her.

"Where are you off to?" she questioned.

"I don't know," he hopelessly answered, throwing his hands up in the air. "Anywhere where there's no one."

"I thought you was getting groceries," she said.

"I got the groceries," he replied, brushing her off. She harrumphed, sticking her nose in the air and marching back to their house.

LotR

Where _was_ he, she agitatedly thought as she sat at the window, tapping her chin impatiently as she watched for his return. She growled in frustration and tried to focus on her sewing again. She finished the last stich and laid the clothes down, looking at the window again, eyes flashing. Oh he was in for an earful he was. "Bah," she said out loud. She wasn't waiting anymore for that lazy lout. She was tossing the food. Let him make his own dinner. She rose to shut the curtains but then paused, seeing him walking down the road towards their house with a lantern. She opened the window. "About ruddy time, Alfrid Lickspittle! Who does you think you is stayin' out until all hours, huh? The food's cold! Good for nothing slug!"

He paused, looking angrily up at the window. "Tough talk for the woman who waited up for me the whole time! Never knew you cared!" he retorted.

"Bah!" she shouted, slamming the windows and drawing the curtains. He chuckled and walked the rest of the way to the house.

Entering, he looked around. She was washing dishes looking livid. "Oh come off it. Not like you give a hoot anyway," he said.

"You're right about that," she said with a bitter laugh. "Eat your food. Where was you anyway? Finally find a woman who gives a rat's behind about you?"

"Oh no, there isn't no way I'm having an affair before you do!" Alfrid shot.

"I isn't having any affair before you either, so you can give up the idea of your staying faithful longer than me!" Hilda shot, turning and putting her hands on her hips, feet spread apart.

"We'll see about that!" Alfrid shot. "You'll crumble, Hilda Bianca. I see how them dogs in town look at you, even if you doesn't!" he added as he headed to the kitchen. She blinked. The men in town looked at her? She'd never noticed. She felt a blush on her cheeks. That they'd been noticing was flattering. Very much so. Nevertheless she wasn't giving Alfrid the satisfaction of winning their little contest as to who would stay faithful longest.

"If I was going to have an affair, I'd be sure you was out of the picture permanently before acting," Hilda said, following after him and leaning against the doorpost, watching him eat.

"I'm sure you would. I share the sentiment, believe you me!" he fired back at her.

"Glutton. Look at you gobbling down our food. Bah, for all you knows it's poisoned it is!" Hilda said.

"Oh that would be such a blessing. Unfortunately I know you wouldn't be so merciful," Alfrid bit.

"Right I wouldn't," she replied. "I'm going up to bed."

"May the pillows smother you while you sleep," Alfrid said.

"May you choke on that steak and die," she retorted, waving her hand at him coldly and storming off.

LotR

She couldn't sleep. She didn't know why, she just couldn't. She looked up at the roof dully, willing sleep to come. She growled in frustration, adjusting her position yet again. And where was her husband? Stupid man. She harrumphed and got up, ignoring the robe in favor of going down in her nightgown. She smelled smoke and headed to the living room where the fireplace was. He was laying on a couch snoring away. She shook her head hopelessly at him in annoyance. She saw him shiver and scoffed in disgust. No wonder he was cold. The night was frigid and he hadn't a blanket to his name, plus the fire had died. She marched over to him, picked up a blanket, and threw it over top of him. She marched right back to bed after that and laid down, closing her eyes. This time sleep came to her. Finally.

It had to be around three in the morning when Alfrid woke up. He blinked, feeling something on him, and looked down with a frown. A blanket? Oh yes, he hadn't been able to stomach the thought of crawling into bed with the harpy he'd been forced to marry and so had curled up on the couch. He didn't recall grabbing a blanket, though. Which meant… He blinked blankly. She had thrown one on him? He had to admit he was slightly insulted she hadn't woken him up and told him to get into bed. Meh, probably meant she'd been just as revolted at the idea of sleeping with him as he had been. Good riddance. He lay back down, trying to sleep again. He found he couldn't. His jaw twitched in annoyance. It wasn't long before he had to get up again, blast it. He needed at least a couple more hours of sleep. Hmm, was rather cold down here. Would be warmer upstairs, but then she was there. He began weighing the pros and cons. Finally, with an annoyed sigh, he gave in to the pros, too tired to argue further with the cons he'd wanted so desperately to win out. He left the blanket on the couch and marched up the stairs. Well, not so much marched as tiptoed. Ugh, why was he bothering to be quiet anyway? If she woke up all the better. She'd probably leave if she was so appalled at sleeping next to him again, and then he'd have the whole warm bed to himself.

He entered their room and quietly went to the bed. He slipped in next to her. She moaned softly and he froze, willing her not to wake up. Wait a minute, he should be kicking her to wake her up! He did just that. She gasped, sitting bolt upright. "Might as well give you the option of getting out of bed before the 'toad' joins you," he bit at her. "Won't hesitate to admit I want the bed to meself, so if you take off all the better, but I isn't leaving."

"Oh bollucks to you, you worthless, good for nothing man," she groaned, laying back down. "I isn't leavin' either, so you can forget about it!"

"Then you're stuck with me," Alfrid bit.

"Bah!" she replied. He harrumphed and laid down. He found sleep came quite easily to him then. Meh, he must have maxed all satisfaction out of their daily fights and that's why it was coming so well now. Hilda closed her eyes too and was quickly asleep. Hmm… It was much warmer now with another person in the bed…


	7. In a Moment of Passion

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Much more racy chapter than previous ones, though I wouldn't call it smut. I try to avoid graphic descriptions, usually, in favor of inner dialogue and letting the reader imagine what happens, for the most part, for themselves. So yeah, it's not exactly done great. I don't do smut. Still, felt it might need a warning. Especially being a T rated story. Scene shouldn't get much higher than a T rating anyway. Reference to an Easterling population comes from the Hobbit movie. Someone commented that one of the female extras in the fall of Dale was probably meant to represent an Easterling. Next chapter may or may not lead up to future darker ones. Haven't gotten that far in it yet, admittedly.)

In a Moment of Passion

He felt arms around his middle. Strange. Maybe it was still the dream. The one with the woman he hadn't been able to make out. The one who actually gave a damn about him and was anyone _but_ Hilda Bianca. Humph, hadn't had dreams like that _before_ being married, he dryly thought. Hadn't had _any_ thoughts of anything to do with 'love' and 'marriage' and 'touchy feelyness' before being forced into this marriage.

She felt arms holding her near, a hand against the back of her neck and fingers entwined in her hair. The other arm was around her waist. Strange. She didn't remember dreams feeling so real before. Or being so warm. Or smelling like wood smoke, a scent she quite liked. She suspected she was in that place between being awake and still being asleep, when dreams felt most real. She decided she'd prefer to enjoy this one a bit longer before waking up. She nuzzled closer to whoever it was in her dream holding her so gently.

He felt the dream figure nuzzle closer to him, right up against his body. Humph, more than Hilda would ever do. Thank the merciful Valar for _that_. He doubted she'd feel so soft and enjoyable anyway. His grip tightened ever so slightly around said dream figure and he buried his face in her hair. The hair certainly felt real, and smelled real. He wondered how the dream would go if he kissed said hair? Usually they ended after that, because goodness knew the gods didn't like granting _him_ any sort of happiness, even in dreams. The minute something got good, it turned immediately to rejection or ended. Oh what the hell? Couldn't be any worse than it would be when he finally woke up and remembered it was Hilda in his bed and not whatever maiden he was holding in the dream. He softly pressed a kiss to her hair. It felt so real against his lips… Much too real to be a dream… What about the skin?

Mmm, she was warming up to this dream very quickly. She hoped that idiot husband of hers didn't decide now would be a good time to wake her. She felt the dream figure kiss her hair. _Again_, she willed. _Again_. Oh blast, why wouldn't he kiss her again? Even in a dream she had no luck it seemed. Wait. The lips again, against her forehead. She sighed contentedly, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Oh there would be hell to pay if Alfrid woke her up now. Were you supposed to think so coherently in dreams? No, but then she had already established she was in that state between half awake and half asleep, so that was probably why… why she could think so clearly, why everything felt so real, why there were… There _were_… Her eyes flew open and she stopped breathing. She didn't dare try again. There _were_ arms around her, there were! _Real_ ones. Ones holding her just the same as they had been in the dream. They were real. Someone was in bed with her. It hadn't been a dream, they'd been sensations she'd felt, not dreams! But that could only mean… Oh. Gods.

The skin. It was real too. Too real. Much, much too real to be a dream. He began to stiffen up. This. Couldn't. Be… _No_! Oh Valar, please no! They wouldn't be this cruel, they _wouldn't_! Not even to him! He had done plenty in his life deserving of any number of inhuman punishments, but _this_? This was going too far! _Surely_ he wasn't that awful! He would change, he swore it, if only it meant he didn't open his eyes and see her… He knew already he wouldn't be so lucky. He took a breath and opened his eyes fearfully.

Hilda met the petrified eyes looking into her own equally—if not more so—petrified ones. For a moment both were too stunned to do anything. All at once they both gave a horrified and disgusted cry, jerking away and tumbling off either side of the bed. "What is _wrong_ with you?!" Alfrid demanded in horror, pulling himself up to glare murderously at her.

"_Me_?! _You_ were the one with your arms about me!" she shrieked in horror.

"You was the one nuzzling!" he shot.

"You was the one kissing!" she freaked.

"I thought it was a dream!" he defended.

"Well so did I, Lickspittle!" she yelled.

"That does it, you isn't coming near me again!" he shouted at her.

"That goes double for you, slime!" she viciously retorted. Angrily she spun on her heel and stormed out, cursing the red tint of her cheeks. He was no less cursing his own red tint. And the fact he'd been aroused by Hilda Bianca.

LotR

"It. Was. Horrible," Alfrid wretchedly said to Percy, leaning hopelessly on the walls of Dale where he'd gone—of his own initiative at that because hell, apparently this was just the right day for him to be out of his usual character—to talk to him about the night prior. Since when did he seek out confidants? Since Bard and Percy had started treating him cordially, he supposed. He hated them for it.

"Alfrid, surely it wasn't so bad," the elderly-well, closer to elderly though perhaps he looked older than he was-man said.

"That's the problem!" he yelled.

"She's your wife, Alfrid," Percy said smirking. "There isn't no reason to feel awkward and ashamed."

"'Ceptin the fact the thought of 'er revolts me and the knowledge I was cuddling the hag makes me sick to me stomach," Alfrid deadpanned.

"What do you want me to say, Alfrid? Do you want me to say you poor soul?" Percy asked.

"Yes!" Alfrid shot.

"You poor boy," Percy said, shaking his head ruefully and playing the part perfectly.

"Thank you!" Alfrid said.

"If you got it over with you would find it much easier," Percy remarked.

"Got what done?" Alfrid asked, gaze almost challenging him to dare say what he had been about to. Percy bit his tongue, deciding not to push the man farther.

"You're bound to 'er, Alfrid. She's your wife. You isn't going to escape being with her and never will until one or the other of you passes on," Percy said.

"Then she's going to have the privilege of being Dale's first murder victim," Alfrid darkly said, turning and leaving the other behind. Percy started, eyes wide as he watched after him. He had to warn her, Percy determined. But wait, Alfrid didn't have the guts. Hmm, maybe he would personally keep an eye on the house anyway, just in case. He cared a great deal about Miss Bianca—Mrs. Lickspittle now he supposed—because she was the daughter he never had and the daughter he didn't intend to lose. He wasn't about to let Alfrid harm a hair on her head.

LotR

Hilda was doing her errands in town. She paused outside of a clothing store. After a moment's hesitation she entered to look at the wares. She moved around the shop ponderously, looking at the fabrics. She could make plenty of clothes with these materials, nice ones at that. She preferred sewing to buying. She was good at it. She paused at a transparent sort of material and fingered it. This would make an alluring nightgown, she mused. She inwardly sniggered at the thought of what Alfrid's reaction might… Her eyes widened. Oh Valar no! She wasn't about to do any such surprise for the man she called husband. Very begrudgingly called husband. Still… It would be amusing to see the reaction… No, no, she wasn't about to tempt those thoughts. Quickly she turned her back on the fabric and continued searching through the rest of the materials and dresses and whatnot.

Before the end of her trip she found herself blushing madly as she took the purchased transparent fabric from the shopkeeper. They would make nice curtains! Or any number of other things that weren't clothes or nightgowns. "They're for the windows," she mumbled to the confused and suspicious looking shopkeeper, one of her friends in fact. Before said shopkeeper could press, she shuffled off. The fabric would make nice clothes, but she'd wait until she was with a man she wanted to share her body with willingly instead of out of necessity. It _had_ been necessity the day the bandits came and he'd seen her bare, it had!

LotR

Alfrid was mussing with his hair. Percy approached. "I'm not out to kill 'er yet," he said to them.

"What are you doing?" Percy questioned.

Alfrid harrumphed and tied his hair back in a ponytail. "Getting a little self-respect," he replied. Ugh, what was he doing? He'd never cared about his looks before, he wouldn't start now. He quickly untied it.

"It looked good up, Alfrid," Percy remarked.

"Bah," Alfrid replied. "Good looks and not so good people don't mix." Quickly he left.

LotR

Hilda was curled up on the couch that night. She didn't want to risk another wake-up session like the one they'd had last night. Alfrid was up in the bed. Just as wide awake as her, she guessed. She shifted uneasily and closed her eyes. Oh Valar, this couldn't be happening to her. Not now and not when it was him. No, she didn't mean she was falling in love! But damned if she wasn't getting curious about a good number of things she had no business being curious about. Not those sorts of things, just… who Alfrid was and what his past had been like. And she knew she shouldn't be curious like that because when people got curious about other people like that, things started happening that definitely had no place happening between her and him. Ever. In a million years. She didn't want his friendship, she didn't want his love… But he did have a lot of perks to him, and why _shouldn't_ she have a little fun as long as she was in such an undesirable position? She might as well tolerate it, or at least get to know what… certain other things—this time yes, she meant those things—were like. No, that was something much too special to share with a man she didn't love… But then again she would _never_ love, she realized sadly. She would never love or be loved by anyone… Bollucks to love. She didn't need it. She was happy with solitude… Solitude… Suddenly that word sounded much lonelier than ever before…

"Oh what are we doing sulking like this? It happened once, it isn't going to happen again. Come up to bed," a voice said from the doorway. She frowned, grimacing. Suddenly every thought and consideration she'd been having was out of her mind as she snapped back to the reality of who the man she was with was.

"I'm fine 'ere," she said.

"We can't very well spend our lives alternating couch shifts," he said to her. "We may as well get used to sleeping together, we've done it before, now come on. Besides, it's cold tonight. Warmer when sharing with another person, whether we like to admit it or not."

She hesitated. It _was_ cold… "Fine," she grumbled, relenting. She threw off the blankets and went towards him. His mouth was dropped, eyes wide. She smirked. "Just the reaction I expected," she said to him. "And every bit as priceless." He was still gawking at the transparent gown in disbelief. "You like it? I made it meself," she said, smirking victoriously and spinning around.

His mouth was dry. What was she saying? Oh, yes. Finally he tore his eyes away from her body and to her face. "You're playing dangerously, Hilda Bianca," he remarked. Why was he aroused at this when he hadn't been aroused at seeing her nude and stepping out of a bathtub? Then streaking through the house. And why did those memories suddenly seem much more appealing than revolting?

"You can't stomach the sight of me, remember," she bit at him, storming passed and purposely brushing up against him. She felt a sick satisfaction at the shudder of revulsion he gave. Was it revulsion? Oh what was she saying? Of course it was. Who was she kidding? Of course it wasn't.

LotR

He was wide awake, looking numbly at the roof. She was sleeping peacefully, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. She'd planned this, that little shrew. He couldn't very well sleep here next to her like… He looked over and noted one of her legs was out from under the covers, the nightgown outlining it beautifully… Looking like this… Oh no, not going there. He finished his thought quickly, pulling his eyes away. Still… Did he dare? No, he'd regret it in the morning and even if he asked she'd probably say no… But who said he had to ask…? His eyes widened. "Oh Valar no!" he exclaimed out loud, covering his eyes and trying to rip those thoughts physically from his brain. His hands slid down his face. He was an evil person, he realized. Of course he'd known that already, but to have that thought actually even enter his mind… What had he become…? He rolled over quickly, closing his eyes tight.

He felt her arms slink around his waist. Please say this _was_ a dream he willed, though he knew otherwise. "You doesn't have to be afraid," her voice whispered against the back of his neck. He started, eyes opening wide. He didn't even move, whole body tensing up guardedly. He didn't like being touched. He never had and never would. He suddenly realized he wasn't breathing and let out a stream of air. A much shakier stream of air than he would have liked. "I'm scared too," she mumbled. "But more than scared, I'm curious. What would it be like? What harm can it do? It's only one night."

"What harm? We could very well beget a child," he answered.

She snorted in derision. "Don't you be worrying about that, Alfrid Lickspittle," she replied. She knew herbs and plants that would lessen that possibility. Was the closest thing to a decent healer this town had. Gently she trailed a finger down his side. "Just once…" she whispered.

"Is you drunk?" he deadpanned gruffly.

She jerked away with a harrumph. "Should have guessed as much," she grumbled. "I isn't drunk, you daft wanker. Just say no." She'd known she wasn't pretty enough to be seductive, so why even try to…

She gasped as she was suddenly rolled over onto her back. She caught her breath to see him leaning over her. She also noticed, about that time, that he was clutching her wrists almost painfully tightly. That he was holding her arms above her head rather roughly and yet in a way gently. "That's all I wanted to know," he said. He moved suddenly, kissing her roughly.

LotR

She caught her breath, or would have if she could have. They were kissing. He was kissing her. And she liked it. She parted her lips to give him access to her mouth. He was quick to take it. Neither of them, of course, knew what the heck they were doing, but they would figure it out as they went along. It didn't take a lot of time before they had both become relatively comfortable with this kissing game. They drew apart, catching their breath. They looked into each other's eyes. They nearly stopped there. They probably should have. After a moment of hesitation, though, neither willing to move, he went to draw away and she acted, seizing his shoulders and pulling him back down against her mouth and wrapping her legs around his waist, holding him in place. She had determined to go through with this and damn if she didn't get it over and done with. Better she lose it to her husband than to some Wildman, because next time there was an attack—_if_ there was a next time—she may not be so lucky as to get away. Was that, though, really her only reason…? She didn't know anymore.

Alfrid, at first startled at the action, decided not to overthink it and went back to practicing this kissing thing. She was catching on faster than him, it seemed. Why the balls was she suddenly all into touchy feely things like this? Not even for a moment had he thought they had any sexual tension going on at any point. Or he was just blind. Nah, there hadn't been a scrap of it. Yet now she was all over him. And for whatever reason he was all too eager to be all over her. He sat up on his knees only long enough to remove his shirt. Oh what the bollucks was he doing? This was a set up for her to reject him in the most humiliating of ways. He didn't half mind the idea of it now, but when it happened he certainly would. No, no, he wouldn't. Why would he even care? He'd sooner die than make love to this hagraven, so it certainly wouldn't be a loss. Would probably be a victory, in fact. Either way it was a victory for him, he decided. He leaned back down, kissing her again.

The heavy blankets were in the way, she decided. She was quick to somehow shove them off the bed leaving only the sheets between them despite being preoccupied fervently returning his kisses. His lips were warm. And soft. She hadn't _imagined_ they would be this soft, but then he had lived high end compared to the rest of them in Laketown. And the taste of his mouth was unbelievable. She caught a hint of some eastern spices. Which was odd because she never bought eastern spices, or rarely did, and the small Easterling population here rarely sold to anyone not their own. Which made her wonder if Alfrid might have Easterling blood in him. He certainly had something of the look. It was possible... and in a way appealingly romantic. There was a moment of self-consciousness in which she dreaded to think of how her own lips and mouth must taste and feel to him in comparison; hard and cracked, gruel tasting or tasting like fish. She almost pulled away, because she would die of embarrassment if he made any sound of disapproval during the kisses… Except he just seemed to want more. Oh bollucks, she didn't need to overthink this. Not now. If she started overthinking, it would dawn on her just who she was kissing and about to spread her legs for.

He was undressed now, she noted. So was she. Hold on a minute, when had he undressed her? Oh, he was in the process of doing so now, she realized as she felt the gown slipped over her head. He was suddenly moving slower. Perhaps he was having second thoughts? Or was it that he was afraid to be too rough with her for her liking? But then that would imply he was being considerate, and that certainly was not Alfrid Lickspittle. Considerate wasn't even a word in his vocabulary. As if realizing that himself just now, he moved swifter again and less hesitantly as he removed her undergarments quickly. Once more they paused, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Will it be painful?" she breathlessly questioned. She didn't know, she'd never done this before and she knew neither had he, but surely he'd read of it or heard of it from somewhere or other.

"Only for a moment," he assured, confirming her suspicion. Though it would certainly feel odd, uncomfortable, and awkward for a good long time, even more so with them understanding just who they were about to be consummating a marriage with. Namely the very one they hated the most in the whole of Middle Earth. Sort of oxymoronic, really. "Don't bare me children just yet," he added as an afterthought.

"You'd best not impregnate me then!" she shot sharply, though she knew that really wasn't something he could choose, or her. He smirked and kissed her once more, Holding her hands tightly, entwining his fingers in hers. He moved against her body, entering her. She cried out and gasped in pain and surprise at the sensation, her fingers tightening around his. She gasped again, shifting and feeling a cross between uncomfortable and curious at the sensation… and desirous… She didn't have to be for long. His hips moved against hers methodically. She moaned softly, body arching up beneath his as they meshed together in wedded bliss. No! Heck no! Not bliss, never bliss! Wedded necessity, she immediately corrected. Yes, necessity. Not bliss. Would never _be_ bliss. This was business, no more no less. But what a way to conduct business. Oh Valar, what was she saying? Thinking, rather. Oh _gods_! She gasped, moaning again as he pressed deeper into her and took her lips. She cried out in pleasure as he reached the particularly sensitive place and moment in the experience, body stiffening as she arched beneath him. She continued to cry out in pleasure.

He hissed sharply in shock and amazement, biting back a cry as 'that' moment was reached. A moment he refused to name correctly because it was her he was having it with. Oh but _what_ a moment… Ugh, what was he thinking?! He banished that thought immediately. Only have it to come back full force as he realize it hadn't passed yet. He cried out this time, more startled than anything. No, no, this was Hilda Bianca, this was to make a point, this was business, this was… What the heck _was_ this? He couldn't stop himself from kissing her and moving against her in ways _he_ didn't even know he knew of. He lips trailed down her neck softly before stopping to kiss the point where neck meet shoulder. He kissed her shoulder next and she whimpered softly. Not a pained whimper, far from it. He pressed his lips against the soft skin between the armpit and breasts. She gently caressed his head, holding it against her and moving it more to the center of her chest. Obligingly he kissed her there, and her embrace tightened, fingers entwining in his hair, as her body tensed beneath him at another movement that had her swooning. Oh the feel of him inside of her…

LotR

It was some time before they tired of one another. And by 'some time' they meant a very, very long time. They both lay still and spent now. When had she moved to lay on top of him, she wondered? He was holding her in his arms, gently stroking her hair as he gazed up at the roof. She was breathing slowly and evenly. He kissed the top of her head lightly and moved so they could both be on the bed and actually get some sleep. The experience had been… surprisingly fun, he admitted. He noticed, vaguely, that he was gently twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. She was beautiful, he noted for a moment. He should probably say it out loud, just so this didn't get more awkward than it was. "You're beautiful," he remarked.

"Oh come off it," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Coming from you I'll take that with a grain of salt. What 'appened to 'agraven?"

"Oh let one go for a change. I've never right out denied you was beautiful. Never would have. Isn't no one 'ere who can deny it. Too bad your personality is another story altogether," he said. She slapped him. He let it go this time. He was in a surprisingly easygoing mood, and that slap, really, had only been half hearted.

"You sure you never did this before? Well, that. I mean the whole…" she began to ask him.

"Never in me life," Alfrid replied, realizing what she meant. "What woman do you think would have bothered with me, huh? I'll tell you. None." She was looking him appraisingly over. After a moment she moved forward, pressing a kiss to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his middle again and settled in the crook of his arm as they laid in a 'Lover's Knot' position.

"What now?" she asked.

"Nothing. Nothing changed 'cept we 'ad a roll in the 'ay. And now the option'll be more easy to stomach in future," he said.

"Looking forward to that," she admitted dryly. "Never thought I'd say as much when it came to a useless louse like you."

"Orc spawn," he grumbled. She harrumphed and closed her eyes. Sleep seemed to come much easier to her when he was near. It was a two way street. He felt… more inclined to sleep with her near. Because it meant seeing her less, he told himself. _Liar,_ a little voice said. Which he promptly ignored. Dropping one more kiss on her head, he too fell asleep.


	8. A Brief Parting

**Second and Last Chance**

A Brief Parting

"You lazy, worthless, pompous dog!" Hilda's voice screamed.

"Go back to the spiders where you belong, spider queen!" Alfrid's voice freaked.

From outside, Bard listened hopelessly, shaking his head. He was beginning to doubt there was any hope at all for them. "You'd better be back before dinner this time, wanker!" Hilda shot.

"I'd sooner choke down orc flesh than stomach another of your meals!" he yelled.

"Hah! This coming from the man who said only two nights ago me food was some of the best 'e'd ever 'ad! Get out! Out!" she screamed at him. Something crashed inside and Alfrid was out of the door like a shot.

"You're crazy!" he screamed back at the house, shaking his fist. He felt eyes on him and blinked, turning. He started on seeing who it was. His eyes narrowed. "What is you doing 'ere, Bard?" he demanded, frowning.

"Hilda has spoken about how well you have been teaching her," Bard remarked.

"Long as she don't go flapping her yap about how well I do in the bedroom," Alfrid replied.

Bard started. "You two have actually done something? How long ago was this?" he questioned.

"Three days or so was the first time. Done it night after the night after that for something to do," Alfrid replied, shrugging.

"And yet you still fight like this?" Bard incredulously asked.

"Isn't like a couple nights of sex changed anything now, is it?" Alfrid asked. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've been wanting to deal with this unibrow."

Bard's eyes widened. "Deal with it?" he questioned.

"Get rid of it. Curious as to how well _I_ can neat up," Alfrid said, marching off. Bard blinked then followed. Alfrid silently pondered the couple nights of passion. He wouldn't deny it was a good bit of fun when it happened. Despite who he was doing it with. Ugh, no, those thoughts needed to leave. Now.

"Whatever happened to not changing your appearance for anyone?" Bard asked.

"I isn't changing it for 'er. Changing it for me own self-respect. The elves' words keep coming back to bother me so I'm showing them and anyone in this town who thinks otherwise that Alfrid Lickspittle can clean up nice if he wants to. 'E just chooses not to bother." If it were anyone other than Alfrid, Bard would doubt the truth of those words. But it _was_ Alfrid and so Bard had no doubt the man was telling the truth.

"This I have to see," Bard remarked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Suit yourself," Alfrid replied, shrugging.

LotR

Bard looked on in disbelief as Alfrid removed the bridge of his unibrow so that now his eyebrows were separate. By the Valar, the man was actually doing this. Bard could hardly believe it. Alfrid removed his regular hat and began washing his hair furiously until there wasn't a hint of grime in it. He grabbed a brush and began brushing it. Bard smirked. "I've never seen you so vain before, Alfrid," he teased.

"Oh stuff it up your arse," Alfrid retorted, brushing and grimacing until all knots and mats were out. Hmm, his hair looked quite shiny now. And soft. "Well, _that's_ a change," he muttered half to himself and half to Bard. He groomed his mustache next, and his stubble, so that it was neater and cleaner cut and generally looked far, far nicer and not so patchy. Actually attractive, in fact. Once done that, he washed his face. He tied his hair back in a bun. Bard's eyes were wide already in shock. He wasn't seeing this, surely. Alfrid harrumphed and went behind a curtain. After a moment he came out dressed in cleaner clothes that were definitely upper class. Bard's mouth dropped. Was this the same _man_?! Alfrid's posture even had straightened up. Of course that was likely from the new sense of self-confidence he was gaining for himself. "Cor Blimey, I _does_ clean up nice," he said, and Bard realised Alfrid was probably as shocked as he, if not more so.

"Better hope she will recognize you, Alfrid," Bard teased.

"You can bet she'll recognize me," Alfrid deadpanned. With that he gathered up his other clothes, stuffed them into a bag, and marched out… Only to be greeted by a good few of the women in town suddenly double taking. Oh come on, it wasn't that huge of a transformation… Oh who was he kidding? Of course it was. His ego was quite stroked by it. Probably wasn't a look he'd wear regularly, probably only use it on special occasions so the magic didn't wear off, but still. For now he was liking it.

LotR

"What are your plans for the day, Alfrid?" Bard questioned as he accompanied the other back to his house. Alfrid seemed much more human, he noted, with these changes and the lessened slouch. And the fact he was starting to warm up, even if only slightly, to Bard and Percy. Perhaps there _was_ something to be said for being cordial to a hateful person. Thranduil had been right. Bard had noted a more human and tolerable side of Alfrid in the time he and Percy had been attempting to gain his trust. He was loathe to call the man a 'friend' yet. He was still more an acquaintance. At least, though, he was no longer an outright enemy. Of course, had he ever been?

"I'm leaving," Alfrid said.

Bard started. "Leaving? Where will you go?" he questioned curiously, frowning.

"Well I needs to find work somewhere, I does," Alfrid replied. "Dale's been established, it's obvious no one 'ere will be 'iring me. Esgaroth 'as been built up and their business is startin' to flourish now what with those who went back." Of which he might one day be one. Esgaroth was more his sort of place than Dale was. "'Cept all them who went back know me and wouldn't 'ire me on if their wretched, miserable lives depended on it. I'm going to 'ave to look at the other settlements in and around Mirkwood, I is, if I'm to 'ave any 'ope of making any kind of living."

"You have more than enough to last you two lifetimes, Alfrid," Bard pointed out, frowning worriedly.

"Not with the way me wife spends our gold," Alfrid grumbled. "And what if children _do_ come into the picture, Sire? Then it's definitely isn't going to be enough." Wait, was he honestly talking about family. Iluvatar, what had happened to him? Of course children were usually accidents, but he wasn't immune to accidents, that was plain to see, so he wasn't holding out much hope Hilda would remain without child if they kept up the intimate business.

Bard was silent. "It is dangerous to go far to seek work in these times," he finally pointed out.

"Well bully for me," Alfrid replied.

"Laketown needs a teacher, Alfrid, as does Dale. Someone to help educate the population," Bard said. Goodness knew he wasn't about to make the man any sort of advisor to him. It was Alfrid. Though admittedly Alfrid had done a good job under the late Master of Laketown, so he supposed really he could give him a chance… No, he would leave that to Percy or one of the others, depending. Still, it was a thought. Perhaps he would see one day.

Alfrid raised a dubious eyebrow. "A teacher? From advisor to teacher? I doesn't think so," he replied.

"At least think about it, Alfrid," Bard said. "As I said, it is dangerous to travel far for work in these times. For now the evil may be at bay, but it will rise up again soon. Spiders and orcs still dwell in Mirkwood. You must be careful."

"Stop pretending you give a damn about me. I'm leaving tonight. 'Ave a 'orse ready for me, if it isn't too much trouble," Alfrid replied, brushing Bard off and entering his house. Bard looked up at it and sighed hopelessly, shaking his head and walking away.

LotR

Hilda was making a pie crust, muttering to herself about useless, lazy husbands who probably couldn't even get dressed without help. No doubt referencing Alfrid. She heard the door open. "About bloody time you showed up," she said, turning around. She caught her breath and dropped the pie crust dough on seeing him. Fortunately he was quick and caught it.

"Watch it!" he shot sharply, putting the dough back on the counter. She was still looking at him in shocked disbelief, eyes wide. Was this really her husband, or was it a stranger who looked an awful lot like him only better looking? "You'd think with your meaty 'ands you'd be able to properly 'old a pie crust no matter '_ow_ startled you got!"

Well, that answered her question. It was most definitely Alfrid Lickspittle. She shook her head. "Alfrid, what 'appened to you?!" she demanded, looking him over. He looked… wow.

"Decided to prove to meself, the elves, and the common stock in Dale and Esgaroth that Alfrid Lickspittle can clean up nice if he wants," Alfrid proudly answered. "Besides, tonight I'm riding out to the settlements to look for work. Figured to look nice as possible."

"You're riding out alone? Is you mad?!" Hilda demanded, frowning. "Orc 'erds would set upon you in a 'eartbeat!"

"I isn't concerned about any orcs," Alfrid replied. "At least not for a good long while yet. We men, the dwarves, and the elves drove them out, remember?"

"That isn't no reason to believe they all left completely," Hilda argued. "Especially after your encounter with them at the lake."

"Look at the bright side, if I die you get all me gold and your freedom back," Alfrid shot.

"Oh believe me, I'm counting that the greatest blessing I'll ever 'ave the honor of experiencing. You gots no idea 'ow 'appy your death is going to make me, Lickspittle. I'll dance a jig on your grave!"

"I'm sure you will, 'ag!" he shot sharply. "I knew you was a witch! Bah! Should burn you at the stake we should!"

"Oh as if we 'aven't seen sorcerers and wizards wanderin' around constantly for the last millennia. Even if I _was_ a witch I'd more likely be revered!" she shot. "And you can bet you'd be dead by now."

"You've 'ad plenty opportunity to poison me, love," Alfrid sneered.

"Don't tempt me, slime," she replied, pointing at the pie. "I isn't finished it yet!"

"Bollix to you, Hilda Bianca!" Alfrid shot, waving his hand dismissively and walking off.

"You look nice," she remarked suddenly, turning back to the pie. "I'm betting you got yourself plenty of new admirers, hmm? You like to make it difficult for yourself to stay faithful, doesn't you?" she taunted.

Alfrid paused and smirked coldly, chuckling. He turned. "Don't be getting your 'opes up, dumpling, I isn't interested in any sort of affair just yet," he said. "Who was that 'andsome shopkeeper you was chatting so friendly like with?"

Hilda scowled and threw an apple at his head. Alfrid caught it and threw it back. She caught it in return. "That isn't none of your business, but I can assure you 'e isn't interested! Man 'as bigger plans for 'imself! Plans that doesn't involve staying in Dale or Esgaroth any longer than needed."

"Goal oriented don't always mean 'e isn't the lusting type," Alfrid replied.

"Bah! Even if 'e were I isn't into 'im," she said.

"We'll see about that," Alfrid replied. "I believe I've already won this little game."

"Damn wanker," Hilda muttered as Alfrid went up the stairs.

LotR

Alfrid was tying up the rucksack he was bringing on the trip. That would probably take days, he dryly added to himself. Maybe Bard was right. He _should_ take the teaching job. Nah, he could do better. With luck. Or not. Luck wasn't with him these days. He ensured his hair was tied back well. Hilda watched him silently. She hadn't begun to think the man could actually look handsome, she dryly thought to himself, but here he was, looking as handsome as she'd ever seen him. Gave Bard a run for his money now, he did. He wouldn't remain faithful. Not when he got a gander at the lovely women outside of the poor cities. Well, wealthier now, or starting to be, but it would be a while before their economy stabilized and the people started having the money to look presentable.

"You're going to catch your death if you doesn't bring a cape," she said, bringing him one. He glanced at it warily then took it. He looked up at her. She was wearing a dress she'd made. It was beautiful. He'd been speechless first time he saw it. And she was cleaned up right nicely. Almost thought it a pity to be leaving. Then he remembered who she was and leaving seemed much, much, much more appealing. Maybe he'd _stay_ away. Besides, absence would make 'er 'eart grow cold and wander. She'd go off with some wanker, and he'd win their little game plus be able to divorce her once and for all and get it done. Sure it would cut back on the treasure he'd have, but at least she'd lose out too. Still…

He clasped on the cape and shouldered his pack. "I'll be gone about a week, maybe less maybe more. Depends on 'ow things go," he said. "Do me a favor and don't wait up. Or keep a lamp in the window. Or keep the home fires burning."

"Whether you like it or not I'm being 'ere when you get back," Hilda replied, frowning at him. "_If_ you get back, that is. I can see you settling down with some woman elsewhere and starting yourself a new life. If so, don't bother writing. I'll pretend you're dead and be on me merry way."

"Bah, no one would 'ave you," Alfrid replied. She stomped on his foot hard. He yelped, hopping on it. "Why you little…" he went to attack her, only to feel her lips against his. He paused, taken aback.

She drew away, eyes flashing. "Farewell, Alfrid Lickspittle. My the orcs feast on your flesh in the road," she said.

He blinked again then frowned. "I 'ope the wildmen come back for you," he said. He took her arms and pressed an annoyed kiss to her forehead. He drew away, bowed to her, then left the house. She watched after him, hurrying up to the highest point in the house so she could see him for as far as she could. He was by the stables now, greeting Bard and taking a horse. He swung up onto it and immediately galloped away.

She watched until he was out of sight then harrumphed. "Good riddance," she grumbled, going back inside.


	9. Messages

**Second and Last Chance**

Messages

"Three days and not a word," Hilda complained to her friends as they were all down washing clothes. "Not one solitary word."

"Don't be surprised, my dear. It _is_ Alfrid," Percy's wife said.

"Hilda, did you know your 'usband could look so good?" one of her other friends questioned. "Why we didn't even believe it was '_im_ for a while."

"I was as surprised as any of you," Hilda replied, rolling her eyes. She was growing tired of the town gossip—especially the gossip of the women—being how well her husband could clean up. No, she wasn't jealous, just bugged. It was a shallow thing, he was still the same traitor he was before, after all, only looked nicer. "On the bright side, probably some woman from one of the settlements will fall for him and I won't 'ave to ever worry about seeing me 'usband again."

"Ooh, Hilda, that man over yonder is looking at you," one of her friends teased. Hilda glanced warily up. One of the shopkeepers, she noted, one of the few single ones. He was good looking, she'd always thought so. He'd been flirting with her the past while. She'd tolerated it, been flattered even. Once upon a time she might have even considered pursuing him in turn. Except now she had a point to prove to Alfrid. She would be loyal whether he liked it or not, so she smiled impersonally at the man and went back to washing.

"Doesn't 'e know I'm a married woman?" Hilda grumbled.

"Everyone does, dear. And everyone pities you it," another of her friends said. "Some of the men 'ave gotten it into their heads that they must rescue you from a loveless marriage or some other such thing, and whisk you away to a life much better than this one you 'ave now."

"Wildly romantic when you put it that way," Hilda replied, smirking. "And true. The marriage is definitely loveless, but the perks make up for it."

"Are perks worth your happiness, my dear?" Percy's wife questioned

"Mum, I 'aven't 'ad a 'appy day for as long as I can remember," Hilda replied. "The only difference between now and before is that now I 'ave a man to cuddle up with on cold nights."

"The man is Alfrid Lickspittle," one of her friends deadpanned.

"That 'e is, but a man nonetheless," Hilda replied. "I've never been in love, never will."

"Is he good in bed?" one of her friends asked, smirking mischievously.

Hilda chuckled. "'E is," she answered, but she wasn't about to give them any more information than that. "But we despises each other so that don't 'appen often, and won't 'appen when 'e gets 'ome if I doesn't receive word from 'im soon. At least a letter saying where 'e is."

"Hilda Bianca," the voice of the courier who usually came to town said. She dropped everything in a heartbeat—which was surprising even to her let alone her friends—and ran to the man, snatching the letter from his hands and looking it over.

"Bah," she said. It wasn't from him. She opened it up. A bill or taxes no doubt. Sure enough it was. She harrumphed. She'd need to pay this quick. "Thank you," she muttered to the courier, turning to head back to the other women.

"Oh, there was one more thing," the courier said. She raised an eyebrow, turning around. The courier pulled out a necklace. Hilda's eyes widened. Was that a dark Emerald? "From your 'usband. He forgot to write anything so bought up the first expensive looking piece of jewelry he could and sent it off with me. He told me to tell you he hopes it strangles you in the night."

Fury crossed her features and she snatched it. "Well the next time you see 'im, tell 'im I 'ope 'e falls off 'is bleedin' 'orse and breaks his wretched neck. And 'e'd better 'ave a letter next time," she shot. The courier stammered out an agreement and was quick to get away from the livid recipient. Harrumphing, she clasped the necklace around her throat. It was beautiful, she noted. Nodding in satisfaction, she went back to join the other women. "The bad news is 'e's alive. The good news is I got jewelry." They began 'oohing' and 'aahing' over the piece.

LotR

Alfrid listened to the courier's message in annoyance and anger. "She 'opes I break me neck, does she? Bollocks to 'er! You tell 'er she can go drown in the lake. And tell 'er I know about that ruddy shopkeeper eyeing 'er. She isn't the only one in contact with me, you know. So are Bard and Percy," he said. The courier sighed and nodded as Alfrid gave him over the letter. "Tell 'er, too, that I 'ope she runs off with 'im. I can set meself up in Esgaroth, Dale, or one of these 'ere settlements just fine. Love is for the birds anyway, so she can 'ave it. Better she 'ave love than me gold."

"I'll tell her," the courier said. Though he doubted she would like it. Nonetheless he left with the message. Alfrid turned back to his current task. Alright, so as of yet he hadn't found a steady job, but he was certainly getting a lot of side ones that paid a good bit of coin. Maybe he should have taken Bard's advice and gone with the teaching spiel. He wouldn't be bothering with these side jobs either if not for the face his wife would be livid if he came home empty handed, and he just wasn't in the mood to deal with that.

LotR

Hilda fumed at the spoken message the courier delivered. "Tell 'im I'm damn sure a good number of women 'ave been looking 'im over as well! And tell 'im I'm counting the days until he reports 'ow many 'e's bedded. Maybe I _will_ run off with the shopkeeper! Then 'e'll be sorry 'e will!" she said. She took the letter that came with it and read it through. It told her where he was now, what little odd jobs he'd been doing and what aspects looked more promising for more permanent work. He wrote of the places he was seeing and the sorts of people there, and the obstacles he ran into on the road. Which weren't many. Alfrid was good at avoiding danger. Was the coward's blood in him it was. She sighed. "Come back in an hour and I'll 'ave a message for you," she said to the courier. The courier nodded and left to get something to eat and drink.

Hilda finished reading the letter then sat down to practice her writing. It would be a short reply, but he'd understand why. He knew where she was in her writing. She wasn't great at it yet, and there would be errors, but at least it would be something. She wrote to him, telling him that the teaching position was still open and she'd much prefer it if he took it rather than go gallivanting about the land. She was surprised herself that she'd written as much. Every moment away from him was paradise, or so she believed, so she'd have thought she'd prefer him to be gone weeks on end… But truth be told it seemed empty without him around to bicker and snark with. She was surprised she wrote that bit down, that it seemed empty without him around to fight. Would probably surprise him too. Closest thing to anything affectionate or romantic she'd ever said to him or ever would for that matter. She paused a moment, starting. Was she actually _missing_ the wanker? Nah, that wasn't it. She shook her head and finished it off, threatening him that he'd better bring gold home when he came back, and that he'd better be in one piece too for… For what reason? Why did she want him back in one piece? So she could rip him down herself? She'd go with that. She finished off the letter. When the courier came, she sent it off with him.

LotR

Alfrid read the letter with a critical eye. It wasn't clean, it wasn't filled with great grammar or spelling, but all in all it was better than he'd thought it would end up being. He read it again, this time for the message. He started at the admittance it felt empty without him there to fight with. He had to say he was… touched wasn't the word, but more flattered. Even if only slightly. It was about that time as well that he felt a twisting in his gut. What was this? Hunger. No… His eyes slowly widened and he blinked. He missed her as well, he realized. Ugh, heck no! He didn't give a damn about what she did or being away from her. He was loving this time apart from her, and with his appearance change he was getting plenty a look from young maidens. He approved of those too. Nice to have them without worrying about Hilda harping on him and saying he'd be disloyal first.

Speaking of disloyalty, damn the shopkeeper, he dryly found himself thinking on recalling her verbal message that maybe she would run off with him. You know what, he didn't care. They deserved each other. Still, why did he feel suddenly more eager to return home all the sooner? Wasn't jealousy, but it was… was _something_. He determined he'd head home in two more days—and it would take two more on top of that to arrive, because he'd extended his stay a bit in this town for the generous pay for menial tasks—and wrote as much in his letter back to her. There was no verbal message this time.

LotR

Hilda was reading through his letter. "From your husband, Ms. Bianca?" a voice said. She looked over curiously and blushed faintly on seeing who it was. The shopkeeper who'd been doing an awful lot to try and stay close to her lately.

She smiled cordially at him. "It is. He's due back in four more days," she replied.

"I was led to believe Alfrid would only be gone a week," the shopkeeper said.

"Yes, well things change, doesn't they? Said 'e'd extended 'is stay in one of the settlements because the people there was generous with their pay," she said.

"I see… You didn't find it odd?" the shopkeeper asked.

"You 'inting at 'is 'aving an affair?" Hilda asked bluntly.

"Why else would he stay?" the shopkeeper questioned.

"Because the greedy rat couldn't get as well as 'old a woman no matter 'ow good looking 'e got. They'd see the truth of what 'e is soon enough, and no self-respecting female would stay with 'im. Excluding me, of course. I, though, was in it for 'is gold," she answered.

"Is there no love, Hilda?" the shopkeeper questioned.

"Hah! Who needs love?" she replied.

"It is not a matter of needing it. It's a matter of being blessed by it, touched by it, deserving of it… I believe you are deserving of love, Miss Bianca. Why do you trap yourself in a marriage where there is none?"

"The perks are 'andy," she replied.

"But is gold worth your happiness?" the shopkeeper questioned. Hilda sighed. Her friends had asked the same thing. It was getting old and clichéd now.

LotR

Hilda looked up at him ponderously, finally stopping long enough to listen and think up her response. "What does you want from me, Jorgen?" she finally questioned.

"I want to see you happy and satisfied," he answered.

"Why can no one believe I'm satisfied with Alfrid?" she asked.

"Because he is the man who dressed like an elderly woman to simply try and get away with not fighting in a battle for his own home?" the shopkeeper deadpanned. "And he is the man who shoved aside women and children in a desperate attempt to get himself to safety in the grand hall as well as shouting to abandon the crippled. And he is the man who hid masses of gold coins in his dress's bust. And he is the man who made life miserable for the people of Esgaroth under the master's orders. And he is the man with not a redeeming quality to his name. And he is a man who is not even fully a man. And he is not…" Jorgen trailed off.

"Not what?" Hilda questioned, raising an eyebrow. The rest of it she had already known, of course, and every single point was a good argument against her being with him, but this last one that the shopkeeper left unfinished had her curious.

The shopkeeper shook his head. "It is the pettiest reason of all, Ms. Bianca, and I'm ashamed to finish the thought," he answered.

"Well out with it, man. Come on now, spit it out," Hilda said.

"He is not one of us," the man answered.

"What does you mean?" Hilda questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Ms. Bianca, do you not know what your husband is?" the man questioned in surprise. Whether it was feigned or not was hard to tell. Hilda looked lost. "He is an Easterling, or a Haradrim, no one is certain. Perhaps a mixture of both. I am near sure he is a mixture of both."

Hilda started, but she couldn't say she was surprised. Not when she remembered the taste of spices in his mouth when he kissed her. The sorts only found amongst the Easterlings and Haradrims. "If I recall it right, 'is mother was just like you or me," Hilda said.

"His mother, perhaps, but not his father," Jorgen said. "Can you not see it in him? In his looks, especially, and his actions. The way he behaves, the cowardice and treachery, it is all a giveaway."

"I'd be careful if I was you, Jorgen, 'bout who you say things like that in front of," Hilda warned, catching sight of one of the few Haradrims in this city.

"It is what they are. It is their nature to self-serve," Jorgen unapologetically replied.

"And that's presumptuous. What does 'is being an Easterling, Haradrim, us mix 'ave to do with my satisfaction with being 'is wife?" she demanded.

"He cannot be trusted," Jorgen said.

"'E never could. Isn't nothing I can't handle," Hilda replied. She turned to leave.

"Should he try to hurt you, Ms. Bianca, please come to me, or to Bard, or to someone," the shopkeeper pled.

She paused. "'Urt me?" she questioned. Of course he'd come damn near to striking her down after Esgaroth was burned down and he'd tried to get a blanket from her once out of the water, but she got the feeling that wasn't the sort of 'hurt' the shopkeeper meant.

"Should he try… Anything rougher than you welcome," the shopkeeper said.

"You mean if he tries to rape me," Hilda deadpanned, folding her arms. "Now hear you me, Jorgen Kinderbark. I could fight away Alfrid Lickspittle any day of the week. I always keep me knife near, and besides, 'e's too self-loving to risk putting 'imself in 'arms way to try and cop a feel undesired."

"What do you know of the Easterlings and Haradrims, Ms. Bianca?" the shopkeeper questioned.

"More than enough to know why you're concerned about the whole assault angle. Well I isn't worried so you gots no business fearing for me either," Hilda said.

"Nevertheless, _should_ he ever determine to follow in his father's footsteps, come to me. I will help you," the shopkeeper vowed.

"Follow 'is father's footsteps?" Hilda tentatively questioned.

"Ah here I go. I have spoken too much. That is a question for your husband," he answered. Bowing to her, he went back to his duties subtly smiling. Seed of doubt planted, she turned and walked away lost in thought and unease.


	10. Men or Monsters?

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Sorry for the wait. Things got very busy very suddenly. Might just put up two chapters today to compensate for the time I've been gone. Not actually very happy with this chapter anyway. I could have edited it a lot more than this, but again, time's sort of crunching lately. The next chapter should be better. This chapter is actually based quite heavily on the poem 'Lady Isabelle and the Elfin Knight', who in some versions of the poem is just a man and not an elf at all. Enjoy the first chapter of two going up today.)

Men or Monsters?

Alfrid rode back into town late at night two days later, grumbling to himself about bad weather and horrible roads and unpleasant company that for once wasn't himself and whatnot. He couldn't wait to fall into his own bed. Then he remember who would be sharing it with him and grimaced in disgust. He should have extended his trip indefinitely, he determined. Next time he would, maybe. And bring all his money along for the duration. He left the horse to the stable hand, muttering about smelly beasts and their incessant clopping to which the horse nickered and nuzzled him fondly. Now he was muttering about how the creature was so dumb it didn't even know it was being hated. And yet still he gave it an apple. Then a carrot. Then some sugar. At this point he realized he was stalling with saying goodbye to it and cursed himself, quickly heading off. He was not going to grow fond of the beast. He already had one beast at home waiting for him he had yet to get fond of. Hmm, maybe sharing the stable with the horse wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The house was quiet when he approached. No candle was burning in the window. Good. Maybe she'd run off with the bloody shopkeeper and he'd have his bed to himself. He sighed heavily as he shut the door behind him. He dropped everything in the entryway. He knew, of course, that he'd get a good lecture in the morning, but right now he was too tired to care. All he could think about were the nice soft sheets he could soon sink into. He went into the living room and paused, blinking. There, curled up on a windowsill with a half-sewn garment in her hands, was Hilda, sleeping quietly. Had she fallen asleep waiting up for him, he wondered? No, fanciful thinking. She probably had just liked the moon. It was a nice moon, after all.

He harrumphed, shaking his head. Couldn't very well leave her here. He went to her and took her sewing, laying it down on the windowsill. "Up we go, Hilda," he muttered to her, lifting her bridal style. He looked down at her. She was wearing that blasted transparent gown. He should burn the sensual thing. Her hair fell loosely and felt soft. She probably had bathed. Finally. Of course he couldn't really say finally, because she'd taken much more interest in her hygiene lately, now that she had the time to take on it. He shook his head and carried her up to their room. He laid her gently in the bed and covered her. She softly sighed. He shook his head and stripped to his undergarments. He should put something on, a night dress of some sort, but at the moment he was too tired. Instead he slipped into bed next to her and looked at her turned back coldly for a moment. He growled under his breath. He couldn't believe he was actually about to do this, but he did. He put his arm around her waist and drew her body nearer to him. Yes, they were spooning. Deal with it. He sighed, closing his eyes. He inhaled the scent of her hair and held it there a moment before letting the breath out. Soon he was asleep.

LotR

She felt so warm, she realized. She hadn't felt this warm since Alfrid had left. The nights had been terrible cold without him around. She'd never realized how much so until just now. Maybe the temperature had picked up. Wait. There were arms around her waist and someone was holding her close against him. She said him because at this point she realized who it was. Her eyes slowly opened wide. He was back in one piece! It was nothing short of a miracle, in her opinion. She'd honestly thought he would die along the road.

"I see you made it back alive you damn wanker," she whispered quietly.

"I told you I wasn't letting you off so easy," Alfrid murmured into her hair.

"Bollocks to you, Alfrid Lickspittle," she grumbled. "Mmm, but this does feel nice."

"I'm aware," Alfrid replied dryly. It had felt… spacious without her in his bed at night. And not spacious in a good way. More in a 'wow, this is empty' sort of way. He held her a little nearer. "How's your shopkeeper?" he dryly asked.

"How 'bout let's try to 'ave a cordial conversation for once," she snipped at him.

"You didn't answer," he replied.

"I gots nothing to answer, cur," she replied.

Alfrid rolled his eyes but shrugged, letting it go. "You wants cordial does you?" he asked.

"We fight every other word we say. It'll be a challenge," she replied.

"We're 'aving a relatively cordial talk now," he said.

"Not good enough," she deadpanned, but at this point she just gave up, shrugging it off. Was more natural to argue and bicker with him anyway.

LotR

They were silent for a time, content in each other's arms. Wait? Content? Oh heck no. Meh, but neither had the energy to bother pulling away. Alfrid racked his brain for something cordial to say. Wow, this _was_ a challenge. Telling her he thought she was beautiful would be clichéd and predictable. Alfrid Lickspittle didn't do cliché. Usually. Albeit saying she was beautiful would be a good ice breaker. Of course when it came to Hilda it would probably be a catalyst for argument. He noticed she wore the emerald necklace he'd sent her. He could remark on that, he supposed, but again, cliché. And superficial. Superficial bored him to tears. Apologies were no good either. Bah, everything had already been done. There wasn't no new avenue he could take with this. Might as well go with something that _wasn't_ as clichéd as the other options. Albeit it would probably still be a mighty grand cliché.

"Tell me about your father," he remarked.

She started and was silent. "So you can butcher 'im?" she asked.

"You wanted cordial. Don't be turning this into argument," Alfrid warned.

Hilda was quiet. He made a point. "There isn't much to tell. Me father was a good sort," she said. "'E provided well for us, 'e did. 'E was loving, kind—well, as kind as his sort could be—good with getting along with 'is child… 'E loved me mum and me very much. 'E fished for a living, or did mercenary work. I learned a lot of me fighting skills from 'im I did. 'E could 'old his own in a battle… What about yours?" She wasn't about to volunteer any more information. There wasn't much to tell.

Alfrid was silent. She turned around in his arms and looked curiously to him. She waited. No response. In fact he had closed his eyes as if trying to feign sleep… or trying to recall a memory he'd long forgotten or had never had… "What do you know?" he growled slightly darkly. She was taken aback. What had given her away, she wondered? Did she want to know?

She was quiet. "I know 'e was an Easterling Haradrim crossbreed," she answered. "Shopkeepers words, not mine."

Alfrid's eyes opened, and she was surprised at the angry flame she saw smouldering behind them. "Try to keep this cordial and drop the subject. Now," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "I told you of mine, you tell me of yours. It isn't like I'm asking for 'is life story, or yours for that matter," she replied.

He huffed and thought a moment. "You can't talk about 'im without going through 'is life's story... I never knew 'im. Not really," he finally said. "Left before I was born, came back some years after mum died in childbirth. Somehow tracked me to the orphanage, took me away without a word to anyone beyond paying a good sum for the headmistress not to ask questions and just let him take what 'e wanted. Humph. For all she knew 'e could have been killer or slave merchant. You'd think she would have assumed as much given what 'e was. She probably did. Probably why she let it go without a fuss. Woman was a twisted creature. Couple years after that, and very few words exchanged between us-though goodness knew 'e tried; poor man was completely lost when it came to fatherhood, albeit 'e got points for effort—'e goes and gets 'imself killed in front of me eyes. Killed because some townsfolk decided an Easterling Haradrim 'half-breed' wasn't fit to be dirt on the ground. Figured 'e 'ad some sordid past or 'istory of abducting women and children and making them slaves… And they was right… After that I ended up the Master's ward."

Slave, he inwardly and dryly corrected. Definitely slave. But the Master had been the closest thing to a male adult figure he could look to for guidance and whatnot, so he'd grown to get attached. Well, not so much attached. He found the man a bother and a headache. It was more he grew to be reliant on him. Given the Master was the closest thing to a father figure he'd ever had since his own father, it really wasn't a promising future from the get go. After all, how else did anyone expect he'd be raised when the man he was raised by was a fat, stinking, stupid slob of a bloke? Alfrid, at least, had had the ideas of hygiene and fitness drummed into his head by his birth father from the get go. And had had education from said father. More than the Master ever bothered to give him. Or could. Though the Master had been sure to keep up the tutors for him, he himself had taken no interest in getting any brains.

Hilda frowned as Alfrid finished talking about his father, remarking on the assumptions being right. He huffed and closed his eyes again. He wasn't going into detail, she knew. At least not yet. Maybe in time he would, but now certainly wasn't that time. She rolled over again to face away from him and there was silence. After a few minutes he got up and went downstairs to tend to whatever business of the day there was to do. She soon rose too, intent on making herself some food. And him too, she supposed.

LotR

"Did you find a job?" she questioned.

"There are promising possibilities," Alfrid replied, though he hadn't directly been hired by anyone yet. Not that he had to think too hard to know why that was so. "Good news for us both is that it would mean plenty of time apart."

"No complaining there," Hilda said, scoffing. "Every moment away from you is a moment in a dream it is."

"You wasn't singin' that tune when we was cuddling," Alfrid retorted.

"Ruddy right I wasn't," Hilda snorted. "What can I say? You're a good snuggler. Keeps me nice and warm you does."

"Likewise I'm sure," Alfrid replied. "What is your plans?"

"None yet," Hilda replied. "You was right about the shopkeeper giving me eyes. Gave me a good talking to, 'e did, 'bout 'ow I deserve to be loved and cherished and 'ow you isn't the one for me, basically."

"I isn't," he replied, shrugging.

"Right you isn't," she answered. "But I'm sticking with you just the same."

Alfrid looked up at her, frowning. "I doesn't believe you," he answered. "You're starting to wonder what it would be like with someone who gave a damn about you. Don't tell me you isn't, because I've been wondering that me whole life. I know the look."

"Well now you can try it on any maiden you see fit to try it on in town. I isn't going to stop you," she said.

"And I isn't going to stop you from running off with that shopkeeper! Good riddance to you, Hilda Bianca," Alfrid said. "I isn't 'olding you to this game of ours any longer anyway. Not if it'll get you out of me life sooner. Can't hardly stomach sitting 'cross the table from you."

She glared at him then harrumphed and stood. "Maybe I will go off with 'im," she said, taking their empty dishes and bringing them to the wash basin. Tidying up her hair and look a bit, she left. He watched after her coldly then harrumphed, going back to his warm beverage and reading. Would she actually do it, he wondered? Maybe. Good. He hoped she did… Hmm, those words didn't sound entirely true to his own ears…

LotR

It was him sitting up late this time waiting for her. Restlessly. Had she actually gone off with the shopkeeper? He grimaced at the thought of it. It wasn't impossible, but still. You'd think she would have given a little more forewarning… But then she was Hilda Bianca. Always did whatever she set her mind to without warning or anything. Bah. Good riddance. How many times had either of them said that through this marriage? And even before? He'd lost count. Was starting to have less of an impact and meaning now. He'd have to think up something new. Of course if she was gone he wouldn't need to bother… And if it was good riddance, how come he was still waiting up for her and looking out a window like some puppy waiting for its master to come home? Of course she'd done it a few times for him too, he supposed, so that made him feel less like some forlorn pet, but still! He shook his head and shut the curtains.

"Bah," he said, turning and walking away from them… Only to come back a few seconds later on hearing footsteps. In fact he'd pretty well flung himself across the room. He looked out. Just some passersby. He frowned and shut them again. No more looking back out the windows, he chastised himself. That would give her too much satisfaction if she caught him at it. He turned and headed up the stairs. Or to them, rather. He stopped at the bottom and looked back at the door. His jaw twitched and he quickly crossed to it, grabbing a sword as he went and tucking it in its sheath just for the sake of feeling like he could actually look like he cared if there was an incident going on in town… Before promptly running away and hiding again.

He yanked open the door and leapt back about a foot with a yelp on seeing her standing outside of it, about to reach for the handle. "Blast it, woman, don't scare me like that!" he gasped out, clutching his chest with a hand.

"Just where was you going, Lickspittle?" she questioned.

"To find _you_, 'agraven," he answered. "I figured something must have… waylaid you." He wouldn't say he thought something had happened to her because that would imply concern. He wasn't concerned, he was annoyed.

She smirked. "Was you worried about me, Alfrid? Figured I'd be lying in a ditch somewhere? Worried the shopkeeper had taken me away and you were left to your own devices? I wouldn't give you the satisfaction," she said.

"Humph, shopkeeper probably worried I'd taken _you_ away," Alfrid grumbled.

"He did say if you ever tried anything that he'd be there for me," she replied.

"Didn't stop to think it was you who did something to me, did 'e?" Alfrid dryly said. It wasn't so much a question as a statement.

"Oh come off it. I saved your sorry 'ide," Hilda said.

"Would 'ave rather you didn't," Alfrid stated.

"Don't even go there. I know you fear nothing more than death or 'arm coming to you," she said. "I wouldn't be tempting the townsfolk. They'd love to see you die a slow, agonizing death."

"They'd laugh at it too," he replied. "Don't think I doesn't know no one is going to mourn me dying day. There'll be celebration to match the Elfin King's fairy circle parties."

"And I'll be dancing out there foremost of all," Hilda said.

"Oh really? Then why does you keep waiting up for me?" he growled at her.

"Because you're me 'usband and that's what mates do for one another, wait and protect!" she shot in defense.

"Hah! Don't pretend you'd protect me," he said.

"And you don't pretend you wouldn't do the same, dance at me funeral!" she snapped.

"I never 'ave!" he yelled.

LotR

They lay back in their bed panting for breath, winded after another lengthy session of 'happy fun times'. "H-how did we get 'ere?" Hilda gasped out. How had they gone from arguing to love making?

"We got bored of the arguing," Alfrid replied. "And decided to see who could win in bed, I suppose."

"I won _this_ round," she said. She'd got him to cry out first this time. She was getting better at this love making game. "You is getting predictable, Alfrid."

"Next time we play I can assure you, you'll see just 'ow unpredictable I can be," he said. "We could go another round."

"Oh please. We're both exhausted and you know it," she said. They were quiet again. Time to get some sleep, after all. Or not. "Was your mother a willing wife?" she questioned.

Alfrid stiffened. "You thought a good time to bring that up was after a roll in the hay?" he finally questioned.

"Never mind," she said. "It can wait."

"What's Jorgen the Shopkeeper been telling you?" Alfrid growled.

"Jorgen Kinderbark, you mean?" Hilda asked, glaring at her husband. Alfrid harrumphed, refusing to answer. Hilda sighed. "It isn't important," she said.

"Oh yes it is," Alfrid darkly said. And the darkness in his voice actually chilled her. Something told her she was treading very dangerous water. She would have to be painstakingly careful here, else she'd awaken the beast in Alfrid. Not that he had much of a beast. But then again his father _was_… No, no, she couldn't be doing that, stereotyping Alfrid on the basis of what his father was. Just because his father was a good fighter—no, she couldn't say that either because she didn't know, she was just assuming. It seemed wrong to do so based solely on the man's race—didn't mean Alfrid was too.

Hilda sighed through the nose. What a way to ruin aftermath. Good going, Hilda Lickspittle, she dryly said to herself. "'E said your father was chief or a member of one of the bands of the Easterlings or Haradrims and that odds were 'e probably plundered your mother's village, killed all the men say for the young who could work, and took the women and children as slaves and forced brides in the case of the girls and women. Or just to 'ave a bit of fun with."

"To use for personal pleasure," Alfrid said sharper than usual. He was quiet. Suddenly and furiously he rose from the bed, tying a towel around his waist and furiously storming towards the stairs.

Hilda sat up. "Where are you going?!" she called after him.

"To take a bath," he answered. "Believe you me when I say it'll be better for both of us if I doesn't get crossed right now." She was quiet. She didn't try to argue.

LotR

He was laying back in the tub, lounging and willing his anger to leave. No such luck. If anything he just felt more venomous. He heard something and looked up. He raised an eyebrow as Hilda shut the bathroom door behind her and shed her own covering. She came to the bath and slipped into the water uninvited. He gave her a cold glare but didn't order her to get out. She put her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin there and silently summing Alfrid up.

Alfrid shrugged and closed his eyes, allowing the scrutiny. After a moment, though, he opened his eyes again. "If me father was that sort of man, you should be afraid, Hilda. Very afraid," he darkly said. "Especially in this position. Might pounce you or force meself onto you. After all, that's what Easterlings and Haradrims do isn't it? They rape women and force them into loveless marriages."

"Sounds more like what I did to you than what you did to me," she dryly stated to him. Alfrid started, taken aback by the answer. She smirked at him, but the smirk fell to a more serious look. "I'll take me chances with the Easterling Haradrim."

Alfrid was quiet. "So did she," he said. He leaned back. "Your shopkeeper was right… She wasn't a willing bride. Didn't have much of a choice but to marry 'im. 'E told her 'e'd kill 'er cousins if she refused, and if she accepted, 'e'd let them go un'armed. Given the Easterling penchant for not following through, no sooner 'ad 'e married 'er when 'er cousins were killed… She thought it 'ad been on 'is orders when she found their bodies. 'E told 'er 'e 'ad kept 'is word, and they 'and't fallen to the arrows of 'is men, at least." She showed him it was a Haradrim arrow. He acknowledged the truth of that but stuck to his response to the bitter end… By said end she believed 'im… It was a forced marriage… And then it wasn't…"

Hilda raised an eyebrow. She didn't see how that was possible, though she supposed something similar was happening between her and Alfrid right now… No! No, no, no, they were still forced into this, they still hated it, it was not becoming tolerable, they would still give up anything to be separated, and she was still regretting this rash decision to volunteer to marry him by force. Well, she forced him, but still! The point was neither of them had abducted each other and she was sure if they had, things would be much different. "Sounds more like a brainwashing than love," she remarked.

"You doesn't understand," he harshly said. He went to rise but she caught his hands and pulled him back down. She looked into his eyes then moved to sit on his lap and lean against him. It would pin him there. She kissed him tenderly. He blinked, surprised, then returned. After a moment she drew a little back so that her nose still nuzzled his, and her forehead rested on his.

"Then 'elp me to understand it," she said to him.

He again was silent for a time. Finally he said, "It wasn't some hypnotism or trick. 'E did nothing to try and build up anything of that sort. 'E was just 'im… 'E was just a man… They're all just men in the end… Me mum was just one of the few to realize it… 'E was the man who took 'er from 'er 'ome and forbid any other man from touching her say for 'imself. 'E was the man who took 'er into 'is tent and gave 'er an ultimatum. 'E was the man she gave 'er life to so 'er cousins might be spared. 'E was the man who she thought 'ad killed them anyway after 'e took 'er as 'is…"

"So far you isn't making your point," Hilda deadpanned.

Alfrid gave her an annoyed look. "Shut up and listen, wench," he bit. She harrumped. Alfrid rolled his eyes then continued, saying, "Then 'e was the man who ordered the bodies of 'er cousins buried when she collapsed to the ground with a broken 'eart. 'E was the man who never touched 'er despite their marriage after the bodies were found because of… of something… Something she later knew was guilt and some understanding of unfulfilled vows… 'E was the man who in time—after 'er mourning was done—took 'er virginity from 'er at 'er invitation to 'get it over with'. She said she wouldn't be the only one left untainted while all around her his men were raping those she had called friends… 'E was the man that told her he'd ensured his men knew not to even _think_ about it, and any who tried to go against that order without the consent of the maidens ended up with me dad's blade through their gut… 'E was the man who never touched her after the night he took her virginity unless she let 'im or offered it to 'im if only to ease her own fear. After all, he wasn't asking. If 'e wasn't asking 'e might be bored of 'er and then that would mean 'e might 'ave 'er killed. As she reasoned, she 'ad to keep 'im wanting to keep 'er around… And then one night, when she 'eard 'im playing a song on an instrument and singing, it clicked. 'E was a man. 'E was a man and men could die."

Hilda was quiet. Where was this going, she wondered? "Go on," she said.

"So she decided to kill 'im," Alfrid said.

"Well obviously that didn't pan out or you wouldn't be 'ere now would you?" Hilda bit, frowning at his dodging of the question.

"For all you know she could have conceived me that first time," Alfrid said.

"'Ceptin' you've already told me your da came back for you," she pointed out, smirking triumphantly.

"Bollocks to you, Hilda Bianca," Alfrid grumbled.

"So what happened?" she questioned.

"Surprised you 'aven't read _that_ in 'er diaries yet," Alfrid said.

"You know perfectly well why I 'aven't, Alfrid Lickspittle. You never part with your mum's first volume. Cling to it like a lifeline you do. I may be defiant, but I isn't stupid. Trying to read that book from under your nose would be like signing me own death warrant. I doesn't have a death wish," she replied.

Alfrid dryly smirked. It was good to know she saw him as a threat in at least _some_ sense. Enough to fear for her life it would seem. "Before the killing business, she decided to try running. Got 'im trusting that she wouldn't run off, got 'im thinking she'd started to care… And she was starting too… She didn't know it, or if she did she didn't acknowledge it, but somewhere along the lines 'er act became less of an act. It was when she realized it that she figured she'd 'eld off on 'er plan too long. She ran, he pursued. He caught up to her and lifted 'er onto 'is 'orse. Rode 'er right to a river, 'e did, and threw 'er on the ground eyes blazing with murder. Started to scream at her, alternating between the languages of the Easterlings and Haradrim, as well as Westron, but she got the gist. Then 'e stopped. Seemed to calm right down, but 'is tone was right menacing it was… 'E looked at the river and said seven maidens \ad drowned there afore 'er in the waters, and now she would be the eighth. Desperation took 'old of 'er, so she came up with a plan on the fly. She's where _I_ got that from, the devious streak… She begged to 'ave one more night with 'im. They would sit by the river, she would let 'im rest 'is 'ead in 'er lap as she tended 'im like a _good_ wife ought to."

"Don't you be pushing your luck, Lickspittle," Hilda warned, frowning at the hint he'd dropped. Alfrid put on an innocent look. "I see through you," she bit sharply. He grimaced and let the act go.

"Where was I? 'Er making 'im the deal. 'E took it, of course, no man can deny 'e likes being pampered by the missus," Alfrid said.

"One more 'int like that dropped, Alfrid, and you'll be seeing stars," Hilda sharply said.

He smirked and let it go. He'd pushed her enough now. "Me da felt 'imself getting sleepy. Made 'er promise she wouldn't kill 'im in 'is sleep. Me mum, being a respectable and honest woman, made the vow… And kept it. 'Cept she took his belt and bound 'im with it tight so 'e couldn't move. 'E woke up and found 'imself tied and 'er 'olding his knife against his neck. 'E didn't beg. Not pathetically at least. 'E asked only once. Told 'er she was victorious and asked for mercy, though it was obvious 'e didn't think for a second she'd show it… 'E was right. She told 'im that if 'e'd done away with seven maids afore 'er, then he could be 'usband to 'em all in death… She would 'ave slashed 'is throat then and there."

"What stopped 'er?" Hilda asked.

"Nothing. She slashed it, just not deep enough. Enough that she'd thought she'd killed 'im, but she 'and't. When 'e was 'dead', she was sick at 'erself for what she'd done. But then reminded 'erself of everything _'e'd_ done. She searched 'is things. Biggest mistake she made. Found his journals. Curiosity took over common sense and she began to read. Was the part about the seven maidens that got 'er harshest… Because while technically 'e'd drowned them alright, it 'and't been by 'is own 'and personally… He'd been the youngest in a big family. 'E 'ad seven elder sisters... Who drowned because of 'im. Some spiel about a flood season, a swelled river, being unable to swim, and Westron enemies who wanted to kill their kind because they didn't trust them. See, they was thralls escaped from enslavement. They failed at saving 'im from whatever it was they were trying to rescue 'im from-be it drowning or Westrons or both-but failed… Never looked into me father's journals. Didn't want to know what they were trying to save him from that ended in seven fully grown and strong girls drowning in a flooded river, especially when our sort… your sort…were somehow involved in it. Whatever it was, me mum came to the horrible realization he was innocent of those deaths, if nothing else. About that time she also fully began to understand that 'e was a man. A _man_. She saw, then, that perhaps there was more to his kind than stories told. More to 'im than even _'e_ ever let on... and she felt guilt. Whatever thoughts went through 'er mind that day, they drove her to tears and 'ad 'er weeping over 'is body."

"What happened when he woke?" Hilda asked.

"He _did_ try to drown 'er. 'Eld 'er 'ead in the river in fury, an act of vengeance… But when she didn't struggled, 'e realized she felt she deserved it. 'E wondered why but didn't for long. Saw 'is journal open on the ground. 'E let her up. Kissed her without a word then left 'er by the river telling 'er she was free… So she left… Her and all the others girls too, because da set them loose promising never to do so again should he take them captive in future. She left, and the longer she was away from 'im the more… empty she felt. Some years later she 'eard whispers in the down. The men of 'er village were launching an attack on an Easterling camp. Everyone was joyous about that, but some sort of dread filled 'er and she followed. She saw it was me dad's, when she arrived. She saw her own slaughtering 'is men in droves. No mercy, no 'esitation. Even those with wives and children watching. Willing ones or those who—like mum would soon be—had grown to be willing brides and chosen not to leave with the others. She watched them pull him out before 'is captive men, those few who would get to stay alive a few minutes longer to see their chief die, and as they raised the swords to finish 'im, she acted. She pled for 'is life, offering goodness knew what to them. Long story short, she talked 'er own down and shamed them back to town at no cost to 'erself. She left 'im behind without turning to look back… Some months later she sought 'im again, during the long 'arsh winter, and found 'im and 'is group in a bad way. She gave them the food, offered them information on where to seek help, and left again… Or so they thought. But she followed from a distance… He knew. Somehow 'e knew, and while she was spying, 'e surprised 'er, asked why she was following. She answered by kissing him. Not passionately, it was brief, but it was enough. She never answered with words, just went to 'is tent like she'd never been gone. The rest 'appened as it 'appened," he narrated.

"Sounds like it could 'ave been a wildly romantic tale… If anyone but you was telling it," she said.

"Well I isn't a storyteller, Hilda," he said. She was silent, nodding. Of that there was no doubt.

"Maybe not, but you're good enough for me," she said. "I'm sorry you never knew 'er… Or 'im, really…" she murmured.

"I isn't the only one who's lost parents in these times," he said. "Your father… 'E was a good sort… It wasn't right what 'appened to 'im… Wasn't right I didn't find it in meself to stand up for 'im." He wasn't going to apologize for backing down for fear, he wasn't sorry about that—he liked his hands thank you very much—but he would apologize she'd lost him unjustly.

Hilda was quiet, sadness in her eyes. She banished it quickly and smirked at him. "Let's fool 'round a bit. Experiment in the bath." He smirked back, eyes lighting up. She giggled and he kissed her, pulling her close. She spread her legs apart, straddling him, and the two commenced to the love making.


	11. Wait a Little While Longer

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Second up today, as I promised two chapters today to make up for the time it's taken me to post again. Given I don't know if Tolkien ever came up with an Easterling or Haradrim dialect for his tales, The language you see spoken in this is Mongolian, though if anyone knows if Tolkien came up with a dialect for the Easterlings and Haradrims, I'd be interested in knowing where it can be found. I chose Mongolian because it's hard to tell what the Easterlings and Haradrims were based on. I've seen multiple opinions. Some say the Easterlings were based on the Japanese, some say Arabians. Some say the Haradrims were designed after Mayan or Aztec culture, others say they were taken from the Persians. Given it's impossible to find English spelling of Arabic and Persian words-at least for me-and I've used Japanese in other stories fairly often, I decided to switch it up and use the basis for the chosen language in the opinion of yet others that they-at least the Easterlings if not both-are based on the Mongolians and Huns. Fair warning, another more-racy-than-most-though-not-graphic-racy chapter. After all, need to keep it T.)

Wait a Little While Longer

She had fallen asleep in his arms in the bath. When she'd woken up, she'd been in their bed and he'd gone to do whatever it was Alfrid Lickspittle did. Whatever it was, one sure thing was that it was no good. Worthless, good for nothing man. She was carrying groceries. She gasped, losing her footing. Suddenly someone was there steadying her and her load. She looked up and smiled pleasantly. The shopkeeper. "You has good reflexes, I'll give you that, Jorgen Kinderbark," she said. "Thank you, kind sir."

"You're welcome, milady," he answered. "Hilda, would you not consider having lunch or dinner with me today?"

"I isn't being tempted away from me husband," Hilda flatly answered.

"Then eat with me as a friend," he said.

"I know what you wants, Jorgen, and me eating with you wouldn't be considered harmless, you know," she firmly replied.

The shopkeeper sighed. "I know," he admitted. "But should you bring Alfrid…"

"Hah! That animal wouldn't know 'ow to properly treat a 'ost with courtesy. Would think he should get royal treatment 'e would," Hilda said.

"I will oblige him," the shopkeeper answered, smirking.

Hilda pursed her lips, tilting her head curiously. "Very well," she finally agreed. "We'll be there. Whether me pig 'usband likes it or not." Jorgen smiled.

LotR

"I never said you could volunteer us for a lunch date, wench!" Alfrid freaked.

"Well you wasn't there to protest it either so we're going, whether you likes it or not!" Hilda snapped.

"Over me dead body!" Alfrid shot.

"I'll be all too obliged to give you that, worm," Hilda yelled.

"If you thinks you can take me on, hag, come on!" Alfrid shot.

"I knows I can take you on and you knows it too, so don't tempt me, worm slime!" she shouted. "If you isn't up for this lunch, I'll go alone."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?!" he shot sharply.

"Drown yourself in a river, Alfrid Lickspittle!" she shot.

"I 'ope you choke on your food, Hilda Bianca!" he retorted.

"Bah!" they said together, throwing their hands up in exasperation and walking away from one another.

LotR

Hilda sat across from the shopkeeper eating with the best manners she knew. Which admittedly probably wouldn't pass at a royal table, but worked just fine for being a guest. "Your husband never came?" the shopkeeper questioned.

"Mention that useless wanker again and I'll be shoving things down your throat I will," she threatened darkly.

"Ah, it was really as horrible as that?" Jorgen questioned.

"Hah! Every moment with 'im around is a living nightmare I never wanted. But at the end of the day it's worth it for the perks and whatnot," she said. "But I tell you I'll be a 'appy widow when 'e dies. I can't express that enough."

"And he a happy widower should you die before him. Please, Miss Bianca, be careful. Alfrid can be a very dangerous man. I would hate for anything to happen to you," Jorgen said.

"I can 'andle Alfrid," Hilda replied. But nonetheless he made a point. Alfrid could indeed be dangerous if he desired to.

The two continued to speak pleasantly of many different things, steering clear of the subject of Alfrid and of any mentions of romance. Nonetheless, Hilda felt herself drawn to the shopkeeper. He was a good man, he was. Maybe once upon a time she would have had him. She still might, if fortune was with her and Alfrid died an early death. Possibly of plague. That really _would_ be delightful. Except she'd be at risk of getting it too, so she was probably better off praying for her husband's good health. Alfrid wouldn't last long anyway. Not at the rate _he_ made enemies.

By lunch's end she and the shopkeeper were laughing together and playfully throwing food at one another before chasing one another out of his house and into the lake, splashing like children. She felt happy and at ease… and she realized in her heart that this would not end well. Was it love she was feeling? No, she couldn't put that word to this. It didn't… fit… Why it didn't fit she didn't know. It should. By all accounts and purposes it should… But something was wrong. He was wrong. He wasn't… She immediately banished the thought that tried to spring up. Banished it and annihilated it. The shopkeeper was too good, and too perfect always meant bad, at least in Esgaroth and Dale. It meant they would leave and seek something better and succeed. Whatever was happening here was not love, that word was wrong… But it might be lust, and lust could be that much more dangerous.

LotR

It was late when she returned home, wet and shivering. "About bloody time you dragged your carcass back 'ere!" Alfrid called from the upstairs window.

"I told you not to wait up for me!" she shouted back up at him. She marched into their house, slamming the door behind her. She began wringing out her hair as he came down, fuming.

"And just where was you so long?" Alfrid asked.

"Stayed for dinner too," she replied.

"Dinner don't account for your coming 'ome soaked," Alfrid sneered.

She scowled at him then smirked bitterly. "Now '_e_ is a proper man," she sneered almost tauntingly. "And 'e actually gives a damn about me. We played in the water, so there!"

"Played?!" Alfrid raged. "Care to explain what you means by 'played'?"

"Nothing like that you dirty minded weasel!" she snapped at him. "We splashed around like kids and it was wonderful! It made me feel so alive and happy, and 'e made me feel like a woman, dammit Alfrid! A woman! I. Am. A woman!"

"Not much of one!" Alfrid shot. "More butch than woman!"

"Oh I can't believe you," she said in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "I want a divorce."

"I'll give it to you by tomorrow night!" he shot.

"Keep your gold. I'm going to be 'appy, dammit! I'm going to be 'appy!" she yelled, marching upstairs.

"Me death could achieve the same thing for you easily enough! Oh wait, that's what 'appens to me when you leave. You're all set then, Hilda Bianca!" he snapped after her viciously, following.

"I'm leaving you, Alfrid! I'm going to go be with a man who loves me!" she snapped, stripping out of her wet clothes and undergarments and throwing them at him.

"Won't mean nothing if you doesn't love 'im back!" he snapped.

"What if I does?!" she yelled, wrapping a towel around herself and going to a vanity. She sat at it, brushing her hair.

"Does you?" he demanded, following her there and tossing her clothes to the side.

"I do!" she yelled at him defiantly, turning with eyes flashing dangerously.

"Hah! You're a 'orrible liar, Hilda Bianca, and even if you was telling the truth, I'm damn sure 'e don't want you for nothing. Nothing could be more unlikely than that someone would actually _want_ you in their bed!" he snapped.

She rose slapping him viciously. He yelped in pain. "Remember that next time you spout off, slug. Consider yourself lucky I even wasted me breath on a worthless, scum sucking snail like yourself. Look at you. You're disgusting! No woman in 'er right mind would ever give you the time of day, you Easterling Haradrim mongrel! You'll die alone, Alfrid Lickspittle, with not a friend in the world. Mark my words." She turned from him, going to the bed. For once he was silent. Why was he silent, he wondered? Usually he would have a snippy response to such insolence, and this wasn't even one of their worse arguments or even close… But right now all that was running through his mind was that this time she honestly might go…

"Before I get sick I'm going to the couch. Would rather drown in me own puke than lay next to you, you cheating whore," he bit, hoping the words ticked her off. He left as she sat bolt upright about to retort viciously. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Some Time Later

He sat on the couch reading a book. Could he really say reading, though? In all honesty he'd been reading the same paragraph over and over again. Which annoyed him to no end. She came downstairs. Again. Oh he relished this. She went to the door without a word. She was leaving. Again. He wouldn't stop her. He'd said multiple times he wouldn't stop her and he never did. By Iluvatar, this was the ninth night in a row… She opened the door.

"Hilda," he suddenly said before he could catch himself. Dammit, now he was obligated to finish.

She paused. She couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat to hear him say her name instead of silence. Would he finally ask her to stay? Would he finally stop her? Why did she want him to…? No! No, she didn't want him to, she wanted him to let her go… So then why did she keep coming back…? He'd stopped waiting up for her, she realized… He'd stopped waiting… He expected any night now that she wouldn't come back, and truth be told… if he hadn't said anything tonight either, she wouldn't have. She still might not, if he didn't try to stop her. He closed his eyes and didn't turn to her, biting back whatever it was he had been about to say. He wouldn't speak, she realized. She closed her eyes. Then he'd never get to again. With that she left. For the last time, she told herself.

LotR

He woke up. She wasn't there. Fourth day in a row she hadn't come back. Percy had been quiet around him, but he had told Alfird that she was staying with him and his wife. Percy had tried to get answers. 'It was inevitable' was the reply Percy had received. Bard had tried to ask him about it. 'I'm getting me things together to leave once and for all' he had said to the bowman, who had yet again told him he didn't have to leave and offered him the teaching job. Which again he had refused. There was nothing here for him in Esgaroth and Dale anyway. Never had been never would be… Which only made it all the more annoying that for some reason this was the first time in, well, ever, that it actually hurt to say it to himself.

He got up and went down. He cleaned up then walked out into the town. Humph, he wouldn't take her back if she came pleading to him, he told himself. He did his shopping. Bard, of course, intercepted him with Percy. "Alfrid, unpack your things. You don't need to go," Bard said.

"What do you care anyway?" Alfrid asked.

"I care," Bard answered simply. "I never thought I could or would, but I do."

"Especially given we've seen a more human side to you lately," Percy said. "Marriage has been good for you, Alfrid."

"There _was_ no marriage. There was a farce," Alfrid replied, tensing ever so lightly but not pausing in his movements. "Nothing here for me in Dale or Esgaroth. I 'ave better prospects elsewhere," he added.

"Alfrid, think this through," Percy said.

"I've thought, alright?! I'll get Hilda's divorce papers to you and be on me merry way," Alfrid said. "Let 'er 'ave 'er shopkeeper. They're the talk of the town, after all. Of the realm in fact. They're the couple of the third era bar none they is, with a lovely little romance story to go with it," He couldn't keep the disdain or sarcasm out of his tone. "Forced into a loveless marriage to a monstrous man, lost in despair and loneliness and self-loathing, dashing hero comes in and steals 'er 'eart, she tries desperately to be with 'im even though she knows she can't given 'er husband, he finally drives her over the edge and she leaves to be with the man, husband finally relents and gives her freedom, they live happily ever after."

"There is another way it can go," Bard said.

"What, when 'er 'usband gives 'er the papers she realizes he loved 'er after all and decides to give 'im another go only to find she loved 'im all along? I doesn't think so," Alfrid replied. "You doesn't get a story famous and wide spread by 'aving the woman or 'usband stay loyal to the nightmare mate. Wife stays loyal to 'usband in the end ain't as attention grabbing as wife flees loveless marriage to be with the man she loves. So long, Bard and Percy. So long Dale and Esgaroth. Alfrid Lickspittle intends to make something of 'imself now. Good riddance to Hilda Bianca! Let 'er be with Jorgen Kinderbark. I 'ope she dies bearing 'is children." Alfrid turned and left. Percy and Bard cringed, exchanging worried looks.

LotR

Alfrid, head hung—which he was unimpressed with by the way, why should it be hung, he should be ecstatic?—entered his home with a sigh. He froze, hearing movement. He looked towards the kitchen and swiftly went to it. His mouth dropped in shock, bags he was carrying dropping, on seeing who it was muttering in annoyance to herself and complaining about no good husbands who she shouldn't be giving any satisfaction to by throwing their games. "H-Hilda!" he exclaimed in shock.

"I can't very well do anything without divorce papers now can I?!" she demanded of him, not looking up. "Get your sorry arse to the table," she ordered. He obeyed in disbelief. She soon came, placing food down in front of him and sitting across from him.

He was silent as he watched her eat. At least she'd come back. That was about all he needed to see to have the guts to do this. He took out the divorce papers he'd been holding and slid them over to her. "Signed them already," he mumbled. She didn't bother looking at them.

"I'd advise you think carefully about this, Lickspittle. Because if you 'and me over those papers, tonight when I leave I _won't_ come back," she said.

"Why did you now after four days?" he demanded.

"Because you couldn't take care of yourself if your life depended on it and I felt pity for your wretched soul," she answered. "Figured I might as well shove one last good meal into you before leaving for good, and get this place in order." He was silent, continuing to eat.

LotR

She was leaving. The papers were with her. This was it. He was, again, reading the same paragraphs in a book over and over again. Leaving without a 'thanks for teaching me' or anything, just as he'd suspected. She moved slower than usual. It was as if she were trying to give him a chance. But he wasn't taking her bait. Not this time. She seemed to realize it, as she paused only once. "Goodbye, Alfrid," she said. He said nothing.

She shook her head and went to the door. "Hilda…" he suddenly said. She shouldn't pause, she knew she shouldn't. She'd given him enough opportunity as it was… But she stopped… He said nothing. Again. She scoffed and frustratedly opened the door to leave. "Wait a little while longer, until I can establish meself elsewhere far away. Then you can run off with your shopkeeper." She looked back at him a long moment. Finally, though, she shut the door and returned to him, sitting beside him on the couch. He held the book out to her. A silent cue. She began practicing her reading with it, reading out loud as he listened.

Some Time Later Again

For a long time it went on like that. Every time she went to leave—and it was every night she did—he would make that same plea. Wait just a little longer until I can establish myself elsewhere, then you can run off with your shopkeeper. Wait just a little longer until I can establish myself elsewhere, then you can run off with him. Wait just a little while longer until I can establish myself elsewhere. He omitted the shopkeeper in time… And then he omitted the excuse… Wait just a little while longer, wait just a little longer, wait just a little longer, then it was 'wait'. Just wait. Wait, wait, wait…

"Wait…" he said as she took the handle of the door.

"For what?" she finally answered. Where she never had answered before, she answered now. "Wait for what, Alfrid?" she questioned.

He looked up. He wasn't sure… "I don't know…" he admitted. "Just wait…"

"Why, Alfrid?" she questioned. He was silent. She should leave, she knew, but instead she sighed. She sighed and returned to him. He didn't move. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He embraced her lightly. "Let's go to bed," she said. Tomorrow she wouldn't come back when he said it. Not if he didn't know what to say.

That night, as they lay in bed, her using his shoulder for a pillow and him laying still, wide awake, he finally said, "Because I doesn't want you to go…" Her eyes opened. She almost dared to ask why… Then determined she'd really rather not know the answer. At least not now.

"Then I'll stay," she answered.

He closed his eyes and breathed a shaky sigh. One of relief? He was loathe to call it relief, but… No, no, it wasn't relief, it wasn't. It was anything _but_ relief. "Good," he answered. He was silent a moment. "You'll be free of me soon enough, Hilda Bianca. Then you can 'ave your shopkeeper."

"Oh bloody 'ell don't bring that up again," she grumbled.

"The shopkeeper? Of course I'm going to bloody bring 'im…" Alfrid began.

"Your 'free of me soon enough' garbage, you wanker! Don't you be bringing up _that_!" Hilda snapped sharply. "See if I care if you brings up the shopkeeper, you're justified in doing so, but so 'elp me if I 'ear you give me that 'free of me soon enough' spiel, I'll strangle you with your damned words. I won't 'ear you implying you'll take off or end up dead soon again. Besides that, I isn't going anywhere, Lickspittle, and don't you forget it. I wouldn't be that merciful! Not to the likes of you."

LotR

He suddenly rolled over on top of her, her giving a little scream. Forcefully he took her lips. She blinked, processing it, then quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, swooning. Valar she had missed this, she realized. She had actually missed the feel of his lips against hers… and the feel of their bodies meshing together as one.

He kissed her shoulder firmly as he slipped off her nightgown. She gasped. His lips burned like coals, hot against her skin. A kiss alone was not supposed to make her shiver all over to the point she gasped. She kissed his neck, hoping her own lips burned his flesh as his had hers. "Minii khair,* Hilda," he whispered, in fact almost whimpered. If that whisper was anything to go by, they had. _Minii khair_… She didn't know what it meant, but she liked it. Was the language he had used a shared language of the Easterlings and Haradrims? She longed to know what the term meant, but at the moment she was too preoccupied with where this was going. She could ask later. She hooked her fingers in his belt and slid down his trousers. He took her hand in his firmly, kissed the palm tenderly, and held it against his cheek, looking into her eyes. "Bi tanyg orkhij khüsekhgüi baina," he said to her.

Was he aware, she wondered, that he was speaking another language? It seemed to come so naturally to him that maybe he _didn't_ know; and yet she had never heard him speak anything other than Westron before. She didn't care either. She shook her head. Tears burned in her eyes. For what reason she wasn't sure. "Oh Iluvatar," she gasped pulling his face down and kissing him firmly. He took the opportunity to thrust into her, warranting a cry of pleasure from her as she tossed back her head and moaned. He continued on. He was swift to kiss her neck as she entwined her fingers in his hair and kissed his head longingly as his movements within her went deeper and deeper. After a good while he pulled something fancy that had her immediately hitting her peak with a cry. Dammit, why was the man so good at this? She wondered if it was some trick he'd picked up from some book or tale written or told by the people of his father. Of course she was probably just being prejudiced again.

He hardly knew, anymore, if he was speaking Westron or the unspeakable language of his father's sort. Perhaps he _wished_ he were saying the words he spoke in Westron, but his respite and safety was in the language she wouldn't know. Valar knew what little ideas would get into her head if she knew what he was saying to her. He didn't need that. Oh who was he kidding? He may not need it but he wanted it. He wanted to say the words to her, just… from his mouth they'd fall flat. Anything like that would. His respite was in his native tongue. Yes, it was his native tongue, yes Westron wasn't technically a first language for him, though that was debatable really. It was no one's business anyway. He felt himself react most vehemently to her movements against his body as he reached a peak. He gasped something out, again in the Easterling Haradrim shared tongue, and was glad he did. Something along the lines of 'why do you do these things to me,' or some other similar thing. He honestly had no idea why she evoked such reactions from him. He didn't even mean in this sex way—though that was included too, such a thing was only natural after all—but he spoke rather of everything else she said or did, and of every way she acted in day to day life.

He hated her. He hated feeling like he couldn't live without her. Her voice, her bickering, her taunts, her cruel and merciless words. He hated her. He hated longing to hold her in his arms, he hated that he had to resist the urge to kiss her whenever they fought or even when they were just silently sitting together. He hated feeling like he wanted to kill every man who gave her a lustful look and he hated that he found himself sometimes watching her as she slept and thinking to himself that this was a woman he might actually let himself come to harm for. He wouldn't say die. There was no way in Mandos's Halls or elsewhere that he was saying he'd die for the woman in his arms… But he would… No! No, hell no he wouldn't! He hated that he sometimes wished that she could love him; because he certainly loved… No! _Hell_ no he didn't! He had no reason to. He lusted for her and that was all. Definitely wasn't love. But regardless of what it was, he didn't want to let her go for even a minute.

*Minii Khair = My love

*Bi tanyg orkhij khüsekhgüi baina = I do not want you to go


	12. Last Minute Confession

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: May be a little while until the next post. The next chapter still needs to be written, and on top of that I have fallen way behind in a course and really need to buckle down on it to try and gain some ground. On the bright side I have a couple of ideas for the next chapter that I can write, and I hate keeping people waiting and not much shore of total writer's block will put stories I write on hiatus. I don't have total writer's block, or any writer's block right now, so with luck it won't be as long until the next post as I think it may be, but again, depends on a lot of things. Until then, enjoy this chapter.)

Last Minute Confession

She was washing herself off in the washbasin. It wasn't a bath, she was standing up this round, but it was a washing. He came up behind her, being bold, and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck that had her back arching and sent a tingle up her spine. She grinned and turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his lips. He lifted her, sitting her on a perch, and kissed her chest. He drew back smirking and summing her up ponderously.

"What is you thinking? And don't ruin this with some snarky remark," she deadpanned.

"Like what? You look 'ideous?" he asked.

"You're pushing your luck, Alfrid Lickspittle," she warned with a frown, folding her arms.

He looked up at her and gently took her lips again. "I was wondering how I could be so damn lucky and so damn unlucky at the same time," he answered.

"You're lucky I'm letting that one slide," she bit at him sharply. "What was that language you was speaking? A shared Easterling and Haradrim one?"

"Aye," Alfrid replied.

"What was you saying?" she wondered, drying her ears and neck.

He hesitated, cringing. After a moment he answered. "Which time?"

"When I kissed your neck," she said.

He was silent. "It meant 'my love'," he finally admitted. She started. "Doesn't you be getting ahead of yourself. It was the passion of the moment," he warned. She harrumphed, frowning coldly at him. "And when you kissed me palm?"

Alfrid inwardly groaned, but he might as well get it done now. Like ripping out a loose tooth. "I don't want you to go… That's what it meant…" he answered. She started and faintly blushed. "The third thing during your… moment."

"Why does you do these things to me," he answered. She smirked devilishly. "Doesn't you be getting too proud of yourself. Wasn't talking about the sex when I said it, though admittedly that was good too."

"What was you talking about, then?" she demanded.

"Never you mind," he said.

"Alfrid Lickspittle, you tell me this instant you slime or I'll…" she began. The door was knocked on.

"Dry yourself off, hagraven," he bit at her, taking the opportunity to hurry away from the woman, who was becoming more and more agitated by the second, and answer the door.

LotR

Alfrid opened the door and started. "Bard?" he questioned.

"I'm going to try and get you one last time to stay," Bard said.

"Stay? What is you talking about?" Hilda questioned, coming out of the bathroom with a towel around her.

Bard started. "Hilda!" he exclaimed. "You came back?"

"I never left," she replied. "Ended up being more a test than anything."

"A well-played one," Alfrid admitted, albeit reluctantly. He looked at Bard curiously. "What was your plan to get me to stay?"

"An offer still open," Bard answered. "Take the teaching position Alfrid. Do so and I will also give you leave to work your political prowess and be Dale and Esgaroth's ambassador between Mirkwood and Erebor."

Alfrid blinked blankly. Had he really just heard that? "You isn't joking?" he asked.

"If you can behave yourself and manage not to serve your own interests over the people's, if you do not supersede my commands as to what to offer, if you can learn to put the needs of the people before your own, you may be Ambassador," Bard said.

"Doesn't you be asking 'im for a miracle now, Bard. You know well as I do Alfrid Lickspittle will forever and always look out for 'imself before anyone else," Hilda said.

"Quiet, wench!" Alfrid shot sharply. "I'll take it, sir, you can count on me."

"Like 'e did during the battle for Dale?" Hilda bit.

"I said quiet, wench," Alfrid growled darkly at her.

"You will be supervised of course, for the first while. Thranduil and Dain will keep me informed of everything you do and say in their company, and should they feel offended by something action you take or word you speak, they will let me know what it was so that I can specify whether or not it is in accordance with my wishes," Bard said.

"Your trust in me is flattering, sire," Alfrid deadpanned, frowning.

"You know full well why I do it," Bard replied. "So, will you take it?"

Alfrid hesitated, but only for the briefest of moments. "You've got yourself a deal, sire," he replied, grinning devilishly and shaking Bard's hand.

"Be sure you do not make me regret it, Alfrid," Bard seriously warned.

"Yes sir," Alfrid answered. Hilda frowned from behind. She would have a talk with Bard and Percy about this later.

LotR

She sat with Bard and Percy on the walls of Dale. "As Ambassador me 'usband will be doing a lot of travelling, won't 'e? Dangerous roads and whatnot?" she asked.

"He will," Bard confirmed. "But we all know how well Alfrid does at avoiding trouble."

"True that," Percy dryly said. "He's a master at it, he is. And if he isn't, you desire to be a widow anyway, Hilda. Or has that changed?"

"It 'asn't changed," Hilda replied. Much, she inwardly added. "I doesn't like it. I gets a bad feeling about this. 'E's going to ruin things for us I tell you."

"Alfrid was subservient to the Master and obeyed him faithfully, right down to the corruption. With a new master, a better one, who is to say our favorite sycophant will not obey faithfully right down to honesty?" Bard replied.

"Alfrid is a fungus, 'e is. Develops and molds to whatever environment 'e needs to," Hilda admitted. "Still seems a little far-fetched. Sycophant though 'e is, 'e's still Alfrid at the core. 'E was a slime _before_ the Master, he became worse of one _with_ 'im."

"I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least when it comes to conducting business. In everyday life I would not trust him any more than I ever have," Bard said.

"This is going to bite you on the nose one day, Bard," Hilda said. She was silent a moment, looking out towards Erebor, then towards Mirkwood. "When will 'is first visit to them be?"

"In two weeks' time," Bard answered.

"I wish 'im luck," Percy said. "Maybe he will find purpose again, something to do with himself that will keep 'im out of our hair." Rather than say that as an insult, though, there was an undertone of fondness in Percy's voice. They all knew what Alfrid was like. Hence the reason his abandonment and cowardice at the battle had hardly shaken any of them. In fact Percy had been surprised he'd even done what he _had_. A couple times it actually looked like he might step up. Of course him being Alfrid, he always backed down when things got tougher than he was comfortable with, but still. Hilda nodded. She groaned softly. "What's wrong, dearest Hilda?" Percy questioned, frowning concernedly.

"I isn' feeling well," she answered.

"Concern, perhaps," Bard said.

"No," she deadpanned. She adamantly refused to call it concern.

"Perhaps you should see a physician," Percy said.

"I'll do just that," Hilda replied. It wasn't concern, it wasn't. She refused to let it be. Concern didn't get you feeling sick in the stomach. At least, she didn't think it did. Besides, this was a different feeling altogether, it seemed.

LotR

Sure enough, two weeks later Bard summoned Alfrid to go out on a journey to King Thranduil's realm to discuss trade agreements and refresh old contracts the late Maser of Lake Town had sundered. _"Are you certain you are up for this, Alfrid?" he had asked._

"_Of course I am, sire, you can count on me," Alfrid replied._

"_I hope so," Bard had answered._

He'd cleaned himself up right nice again; no unibrow, clean cut, hair pulled back, nice clothes… Currently he was readying a few supplies and weapons. Mirkwood was no pleasant place to get lost in. Thranduil had assured Bard he would minimize the illusions of the forest as much as he dared so that Alfrid wouldn't become overly lost. Hilda watched sullenly, arms folded. She shifted uncomfortably. "I doesn't like this," she said.

"Of course you doesn't," he replied. "Isn't like I'm going to bring Esgaroth and Dale to ruin now, is it?"

"I'm not so sure," Hilda deadpanned.

"Bah, who needs your opinion anyway?" he replied, waving her off.

"You're going to die in that forest, Lickspittle," she bitterly bit. "I hopes you've set up your will nice and pretty like so's I'm not left without."

"Humph!" Alfrid replied, sneering. "You're provided for, that's all you need to know."

"I'd better be. And don't you dare with'old nothing from me," she sneered back.

"I'll with'old whatever I likes from you!" he snapped.

"Go crawl back under the rock from whence you came," Hilda retorted.

"Harpy," he bit, walking away.

When the door shut behind him, she suddenly felt a cold dread in her. She rubbed her arms, looking worriedly around. She didn't like this. It felt so empty and cold. She felt her gut clenching. It wasn't worry, it wasn't worry, it wasn't… Oh bollocks, it was worry. She grimaced, closing her eyes tightly. She'd seen him head off before. He'd come back then, he would come back now. She decided to walk around town.

LotR

She went around the market stalls shopping for food and other such things. She was humming to herself and finally feeling at ease… And then she'd heard a few folks gossiping, some hunters. "I doesn't have any idea why the spiders have suddenly come down in force, but it's like they're blocking off every forest path in Mirkwood. No road is safe to travel by right now."

"The elves will drive the darkness away again," the other said. "Mirkwood will have at least a little while of peace after that battle of five armies, they will. The Elvenking will be sure of it."

"I hope. But until they remove those creatures, those roads are a death trap for anyone not elven," the first said.

By the time he said those words, Hilda was already off running as she lifted her skirts. She raced towards the stables. "Hilda, where are you going?!" Percy called to her suddenly. "You shouldn't be stressing yourself right now!"

She blatantly ignored him. Concerned, he chased after her. She ran straight to the stables, snatching a blade from a stall and tossing some coin to the owner. It was one of those spear, sword hybrid things she had used in the Battle of Five Armies. Bard was by the stables, brushing a steed. "Give me a horse!" she ordered, racing there.

Bard turned, startled. "Hilda?" he asked.

"Give me a bleedin' horse!" she snapped viciously, grabbing away the one he'd been tending and nimbly swinging up onto it, side-saddle.

"Hilda, where are you going?!" Bard demanded in alarm, catching it and holding it still.

"Let go of the 'orse, Bard! Valar know Alfrid needs a babysitter," she shot.

"Hilda, what is this about?" Bard questioned, refusing to release the steed.

"Hilda, you cannot go after him now! He is already hours ahead of you! Even if you try you will not catch up. It is pointless, and you are in no condition to try!" Percy said, finally catching up to her. "Alfrid will be fine."

Bard looked over quizzically at Percy. What had Hilda heard in town that had her so worried? Did Percy know? Why was Percy so concerned for her leaving? Taking the moment of distraction, Hilda kicked the horse into action. It bolted, pulling free of Bard. "Hilda!" Bard called after her.

"Miss Bianca!" Percy shouted. She ignored them.

LotR

Alfrid rode along grumbling about dark forests and eyes watching him. He wasn't sure if they were elven eyes or something else unpleasant. He probably didn't want to know. The forest changed as he went. Perhaps Thranduil's way of guiding Bard's Ambassador along the trails. He didn't let himself dwell on that. This forest… It was so twisted… Evil… But the trees hardly seemed to acknowledge him. He probably fit in here with the evil, he dryly thought to himself. He forced himself to pay attention to where he was going. If he wandered, he'd never find his way out again. He began humming a song his birth father had taught him in the short time he'd been with the man. The man who never had time to become anything more than a stranger or a curiosity to him before he was killed, Alfrid dryly added to himself. Judging by the reaction of the forest, the song was probably a song sung by lamenting thralls of the Necromancer's from years back, to remind them of a home and to remind them there was such a thing as freedom. And how unobtainable it was.

He heard scuttling in the trees and frowned, looking up. A shiver ran through him. Spiders. They had to be. He grimaced and rechecked his blade. He was glad that for the past two weeks Hilda had been teaching him some things, and Bard had enhanced the studies with his own techniques. Alfrid was now at least functioningly competent with a blade. Enough to defend himself for a fair bit should trouble find him, though not against a big number or a powerful enemy. With luck, though, he wouldn't need more than he knew, and spiders weren't exactly blades men. He could probably take them well enough it he really watched his footing and handiwork in battle with them. He had also taken to reading books about the art, and books about the techniques of Easterlings and Haradrims, which he found came to him easier. Probably because he felt more motivated to master the blade work of his people over the blade work of most other men. Just to say he could and was at least a _little_ bit of an eyebrow raiser to his father's sort, even if it was only a curious raise.

A spider suddenly leapt down from above. His horse reared back, which was surprisingly useful to Alfrid. He took the opportunity to jab his blade up and into the creature's stomach. With a shriek it died and fell at the feet of the rearing horse, making it dance around a bit before settling. "Easy, you smelly beast," he said to his horse. He called it his horse because after his escapade going around settlements for work, he'd grown quite fond of it. Always used it now. Stable master had finally said he could have it and keep it at the stables for a rental fee. He'd used the creature enough that he'd paid for it twice over anyway. He wiped off his blade then froze. What was that sound? The clopping of hooves. Elven escort, maybe? But that wouldn't explain why it was coming from the direction of Dale and Esgaroth. They'd catch up eventually, whoever they were. He didn't notice the spider creeping up behind him until it leapt. He gasped, spinning with eyes wide. He would never get it in time!

Just then a sword and spear mix flew through the air, piercing its body. It reared. Alfrid struck with his blade to end it. As the spider died, Alfrid spun swiftly to see who his savior was, clutching his sword just in case it wasn't a friendly face after all. His eyes widened in shock. It wasn't a friendly face, but it certainly wasn't a spider or orc. "Hilda!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"I 'ad a feeling you'd need a guardian angel, Alfrid Lickspittle," she bit at him, riding up on her horse and taking the spear from the spider's body.

"Why is you following me?" he demanded in annoyance. "Afraid I'll betray Dale or leave and never come back?"

"Hah! Would be a dream come true if you left never to return. I comes after you to be sure you doesn't get yourself mauled to death," she answered. "If you left and never came back that would be one thing. Never coming back because you was become spider lunch is another matter entirely."

"I gots no light about me they'd want to devour," Alfrid replied.

"No arguments there," Hilda said.

"Get back 'ome, Hilda. I can 'andle meself just fine," Alfrid said.

"I've come this far, I isn't going back so easily," she replied.

"Do as I say, wench," he bit.

"Hah! You've yet to make a 'alf descent decision in your life. I finds I've got a better chance of surviving if I do the opposite of everything you says," she answered, trotting passed him and continuing down the trail. He couldn't help but smirk after her. Truth be told, part of him was glad she was here. Trail didn't seem so lonely anymore.

LotR

As they went on, the webs became thicker, and they became uneasier. "Is we sure the Elvenking can be trusted not to lead us to our deaths?" Alfrid dubiously asked.

"We isn't getting through this forest at all without 'im dampening the illusions, so we doesn't got a choice whether to trust him or not," Hilda replied.

"I've 'eard of 'is wiles and deceits, 'is little fairy circles and 'is trickeries," Alfrid darkly remarked. "That fae is as dangerous as 'e is safe, as likely to stab you in the back as 'e is to grant you some elfin blessing. Depends on 'is mood it does."

"You've 'eard too many stories," she remarked.

"I wouldn't put it past 'im," Alfrid said firmly, not about to waver in his opinion. "The elven king is cruel, Hilda. Don't be letting anyone tell you otherwise. For all 'is honor, for all 'is wisdom and patience, 'e is at the end of the day cruel."

They both suddenly froze, hearing scuttling through the trees. "Spiders," she whispered.

"Don't be bothering whispering. If they're this close they've seen us already," Alfrid said. Hilda shifted uneasily. She looked around. then climbed off of her horse and struck its flank. Immediately it whinnied and bolted back towards Dale and Esgaroth. "Was that supposed to be a brilliant idea?" Alfrid snarled.

"I'd rather the 'orses get back alive. Dale and Esgaroth are short on them as it is. Besides, I'm fond of that one," she replied.

Alfrid hesitated and looked down at his own. Sending them off running may even distract the spiders, he determined. He climbed off of his own—albeit reluctantly—and struck its flank. It too raced away. He watched sullenly after it. Hilda took his hand. "We keep moving. Methinks we're going to have to put a lot more faith in the Elvenkings illusions than is wise," he said.

"How does you know they're 'is?" she asked.

"They is," Alfrid answered simply. Reeked of elven magic and mysticism and whatnot.

"Two 'ave a better chance out 'ere than one," Hilda said to him. "Glad I come yet?"

"Would be gladder if you'd brought fighting men or soldiers with you," he answered, drawing her on down the path.

"They're following," she whispered. Alfrid sped up slightly. "They're right above us," she warned.

"Keep calm," he answered, more to calm himself down than her, though. Suddenly a spider sprang from something of a trap door! He screamed in alarm. She bolted, dragging him with her.

"Run!" she said. The spiders had grown tired of waiting!

LotR

The two ran down the path top speed, panting. The spiders were scuttling behind them making eerie noises. Hilda looked back. Mistake. She screamed, running right into a web. "Hilda!" Alfrid exclaimed, pulling her free. "Keep your eyes on the ruddy road!"

"I'm watching," she defended in embarrassment, focusing once again on their run. The further they ran the more webs seemed to spring up! Were they even on the trail anymore? The forest had stopped changing!

On and on they fled, the sticky threads grasping at their ankles and arms and hair as they pushed through Mirkwood. By now, however, both knew they'd become lost. That meant they would never find their way out again, so the stories went, but now wasn't the time to worry themselves about that bit of misfortune. Not when they had at least five other problems right on their ruddy heels.

They suddenly spun around and together took out one of the spiders, thrusting their weapons at the same time into the beast. Another lunged at them and they made swift work of it as well, shooting victorious grins at each other. Victory turned to shock and horror, though, when more spiders began creeping from the branches. Hilda gasped, drawing nearer to Alfrid. He looked up at them in disbelief then took off running, pulling her with him then pushing her ahead. Suddenly a spider dropped from above right in front and swung its stinger. She screamed.

It was reflex that made him pull her back and take the sting; it was! He wouldn't accept it being anything else that had driven him to do this! Kind of pathetic, really, that he was thinking up excuses as to _why_ he had let this creature impale him instead of her, rather than focusing on the fact he was bleeding and poisoned. "Alfrid!" he heard her scream, though it was faint. He saw the spider fall. He felt himself sinking to his knees. She pulled him up, though. "Come on, you damn wanker. Doesn't you be doing this to me, Lickspittle. Not in the middle of a battle, you useless man! Isn't it supposed to be you trying to protect me and not the other way around?" He staggered up, trying to focus on her voice and on moving, but it was apparent very quickly that they'd run out of luck.

Sure enough, she screamed as suddenly a spider tripped her. She began struggling. It didn't bother poisoning her, instead working to quickly wrap her in spider silk so she couldn't get away. He felt himself being wrapped as well. He really should do something about that, he knew, but he couldn't even think clearly. He felt himself being hefted up. They were sticking him in a web. Well, at least they wasn't dangling him from a tree. Her voice was faint, but she was crying out for help, hoping against hope elves or dwarves or hunters or anything, really, were nearby to help them. He couldn't hear much beyond that. A moment later he blacked out.

LotR

Hilda struggled in the webs. On the bright side, the spiders had gone to hunt elsewhere for a bit. There would be no better time to escape than now. If only she had the means to do so. She forced herself to take a few breaths and calm down. She looked over at Alfrid in concern. "Alfrid? Alfrid!" she shot sharper.

He twitched and his eyes flickered open to give her an annoyed look. "I blame you for this," he growled. "I would 'ave been just fine alone and then you 'ad to come along," he bit.

He was quick to recover from the poison, she dryly noted to herself. Probably hadn't been that much, she decided. Through really could she say he'd recovered from it, or was that a lie she told herself? After all, she saw the glazed look in his eyes. "We 'as to get down from 'ere," she said.

"There isn't no 'ope, Hilda, just let it go. We is as good as dinner now. Best to close your eyes, fall asleep, and 'ope you doesn't wake up in time to realize you're being eaten," he grumbled.

"There's a way out of this, you toad, and you know there is. All I'm asking you to do is 'elp me find it," she said.

"There isn't any way out!" he retorted viciously, sharply looking at her with eyes narrowed. "We. Are. Already. Dead! Do you hears me? We're dead!"

"We can't be!" she insisted, desperation in her tone.

"Let it go already, woman. There isn't no 'ope left for us. Why is you so determined to fight what can't be beaten?" he demanded.

"Never you mind, Alfrid Lickspittle, just please… Please, you 'ave to 'elp me, please!" she begged. Yes, she begged. Him. She was actually begging _him_. "Alfrid, I can't die, not now! Not like this!"

He snickered. "You're more scared of death than I am," he replied. Of course if he wasn't still feeling drugged up from spider venom he'd probably be panicking desperately and thrashing about like a madman. Then _she'd_ be the one trying to calm things. As it was said spider venom had a way of making you feel mellow and sluggish. In a bad way. A very bad way. He knew he should be panicking, he wanted in fact to panic, he just didn't have the energy to. He wanted to close his eyes and not wake up, pretend this was all a dream until it wasn't.

"No, you doesn't understand!" she insisted.

"Death is coming, whether you likes it or not! Get used to it!" he snapped sharply.

"I'm pregnant!" she screamed at him.

LotR

The Valar themselves couldn't have hoped to snap him back to himself as quickly as those words did. His eyes flew open wide in horror. "You're _what_?!" he blurted, suddenly wide awake. You could almost think he hadn't been poisoned at all if not for the pallor of his skin. Of course said pallor could probably also be chalked up to the abruptness of her last minute announcement.

"I'm pregnant!" she sobbed. Yes, actually sobbed. "I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant, I'm pregnant! Oh gods, I can't die. Not now. Not now! Please, please. Oh Iluvatar help me, please help me."

"What on Arda possessed you to come after me into Mirkwood forest plagued by evil when you're with child?!" he freaked. "Is you out of your damn _mind_?! Hilda, oh _god_! Hilda, pregnant, really? You tell me this now when there's next to no chance of survival and I've alredy been preparing meself to die? When exactly was you planning on _informing_ me?! 'Ow long 'as you been with child?!"

She sniffed, willing herself to calm down. "I-I think it 'appened that, that night I determined to stay for good. Dammit, Alfrid, what does it matter when it 'appened? I'm with a bleedin' child, so put on your big boy trousers and do something! Damn, damn, _damn_!"

Alfrid cursed luck and doom about a million times over. Frantically he began trying to process what to do. He looked around desperately. His sword. It was nearby. He began squirming. "Can you get a 'and free?" he questioned.

"Aye," she answered.

"Good. We're only getting one shot at this," he replied, managing to work his cocoon a little bit loose. He moved the section of the web holding the sword towards her with his feet as best he could. Luckily they were close together. Her fingertips touched the hilt. She grasped it and pulled at it, working it free of the sticky silk. The moment she had at least a little bit of metal at her disposal, she began sawing. Slowly but surely the webs were coming undone. "'Urry," he whispered. They were coming back.

"I'm trying," she answered. Almost there… Yes! She pulled her arm free and jerked the sword loose, immediately sawing at the threads holding her. Soon she had freed most of herself. She turned, cutting Alfrid loose. He dropped with an exclamation of alarm and hit the ground. There was a cry of pain.

"What did you do _that_ for?!" he demanded.

"Imagine if _I_ 'it the ground like that in me condition?" she replied. He groaned. He hated to admit it, but she had a point. He just wouldn't say that out loud. She cut herself loose and gasped as she fell. He caught her in his arms and through some miracle or other managed to stay up, though wobbly. He set her down and took his sword back as she grabbed up her hybrid weapon.

"Run," he said.

Quickly she did so. He raced after her. Well, he tried, but the poison was still in his system and wreaking havoc with his body. He was falling behind. They heard the enraged noises of the spiders. They would be after them in only seconds. She stopped, looking back with eyes wide in fear. "Alfrid, 'urry!" she cried out, seeing the branches moving and the spiders appearing.

"Keep running!" he shouted at her, drawing his sword. She hesitated then raced back to him, taking his hand and pulling him along faster. He stumbled with a cry as his energy was quickly drained. He staggered up, with her help, but fell again.

"Come on, come on," she insisted, pulling at him. The spiders were getting close!

He jerked free. "Run!" he ordered her.

"What?" she gasped.

"Just run!" he shouted.

"You isn't going to stand a chance!" she shot back.

"Neither of us will if one don't stay back!" Alfrid barked.

"I've never been one for being rescued by a hero," she answered, standing her ground.

"One: I isn't a hero, and if I was thinking clearly and not through a fog chances are I'd sacrifice _you_. Two: Dammit, Hilda, you're pregnant!" he yelled.

"And if we doesn't fight them off now, I won't be much longer!" she shouted right back. It wasn't like they'd all stop to take on Alfrid. Half would continue in pursuit of her, and in these woods she'd never outrun them. Not this lost. He grimaced, but he saw her point. Again. Wow, he really _was_ in a fog. Reluctantly he nodded, turning with her to face the spiders. She took his hand tightly. He glanced down at her and felt a surge of protection shoot through him unlike anything he'd ever experienced before; a desperation to protect her and her chid. Their child. His… _his_ child… Child? What stroke of misfortune and cruelty was this, he inwardly groaned? He couldn't be a father! He could hardly be a husband let alone a father! Heck, he could hardly be a _man_ let alone a _husband_! The spiders were upon them. Now it was do or die.

LotR

It looked like die was, indeed, going to be the outcome. In a last desperate stand, Alfrid pushed Hilda behind him and stood in front of her in a stance reminiscent of the Easterlings and Haradrims. Of course he knew he was as good as dead, but maybe if the spiders ended up thinking he was an ally of the orcs they'd let him be? Hah! Wishful thinking. The spiders wasn't allied with anyone, least of all orcs. At least he didn't think so. Didn't have the brain power, at the moment, to think it over right now either. He began cutting at them as Hilda slashed too. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Suddenly arrows began whizzing onto the scene, striking the spiders. The two gasped, turning. From the forest leapt five elves! They were swift to throw themselves into the spiders, but they knew there were too many to hold off as only five. However, they succeeded in driving them back. Two of the elven group returned to Alfrid and Hilda. Before they could speak, a spider leapt down, separating Alfrid from them and Hilda. They drew their swords to fight said spider, but more joined. They looked about to try anyway until Alfrid found himself blurting, "Get 'er to safety! She's with child!" The elves started and hesitated, but children were rare in their society and priceless treasures to be guarded. Even in times of peace, children were precious to the elves and things to be protected no matter the cost. They knew how treasured the unborn child carried in the mortal woman must be to her. Quickly enough one took her hand.

"What? Wait, Alfrid!" she called out.

"Get your sorry arse moving! There are elves 'ere now!" Alfrid replied, blocking a sting from one of the spiders. "I'll join you soon!"

"No, no! Alfrid, don't! Alfrid!" she called back to him as the two elves dragged her away with no small difficulty. She didn't know why terror seized her, but oh how she feared. She felt, sensed, that she would never see him again if he left her sight. She knew she wouldn't! "Alfrid, damn you! You 'ad better come back, you 'ere me, you 'ad better come back!" she spat viciously. "I isn't raising this child alone! I isn't being a widow just yet!" He chuckled grimly. The other three elves pushed forward more determinedly, fighting the spiders to try and clear the mortal man's way to run as well; but even as they fought, the sounds of more scuttling came over the trees. The elves, grim faced, kept fighting. They would fight to the death.


	13. Search Party

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Given there's only two or three more chapters in this, I'll probably be posting all today. Worried it might seem too rushed, though. Well, maybe one day I'll do a few edits to it and slow it down a bit so it has more impact, but that depends on what I can do with the edits now. Anyway, this if the first chapter up today. One or two more will follow. May even have short offshoots one day, depending. Enjoy.)

Chapter

Hilda stood on a balcony with no parapet in the halls of the Elvenking. The balcony overlooked the elven road they would return on. She had to know whether he'd lived or died. Her hand fell subconsciously on her stomach. Hours had passed and they had yet to return. She closed her eyes tightly, willing away a queasy feeling that seemed to tell her that this time he wouldn't be coming back. Was it her fault, she wondered? No, he would have been taken regardless. If anything she had bought him a little more time by showing up when she had.

On coming into Thranduil's halls, she had been immediately examined in the Halls of Healing. From there elven handmaidens had taken her off to bathe, dress, and get refreshed. They had done a good job of hiding the fact she'd ever been a peasant. She was beautiful in this gown, they had said, but right now her appearance was the last thing on her mind. Opening her eyes again, she looked out at the path. It was still empty.

"He isn't coming back…" she whispered to herself.

"You despair so swiftly, mortal," a deep voice said from behind. She stiffened, pale. She turned timidly, feeling suddenly very small and unimportant. Especially given the imposing figure who stood behind her, fingers playing over the head of his regal staff ponderously as he watched her. When had he gotten here, she wondered?

"The man can't 'old 'is own for the life of 'im," she answered. "Even with the 'elp of the elves 'e would 'ave fallen. Probably spider food by now."

Thranduil tilted his head ever so slightly, eyes indifferent and cold. "Then why do you continue to wait?" he questioned. "If you so desired it, my soldiers could return you to Dale forthwith. I suspect you have much work to do to prepare for the child you carry."

Hilda subconsciously rested her hand on her stomach again. "For the child I get to raise alone," she deadpanned.

"It is as you say," Thranduil answered. "But surely there are those who would aid you in the rearing of the baby." It was more statement than question.

"Many," she answered.

"Then what use do you have for the mortal who has brought three of my men to their deaths?" Thranduil darkly questioned, for he knew, he sensed, that his elves would never return; or if they did, they would return born on stretchers, bodies to be buried beneath the trees. He had so hoped they would not lose any more elves. At least not for a little longer.

Hilda was silent. To that question she had no answer. "I gots no use for 'im," she finally answered in a grumble.

"So why do you wait?" Thranduil questioned.

She thought about giving a defiant retort before remembering just whose presence she was in. She bit back a sharp remark and bowed her head. "I doesn't know," she admitted.

LotR

"Open the gates!" one of the elfin guards called from below. Hilda gasped and quickly raced to the edge of the balcony. Her hopeful expression crumbled to one of despair and she felt tears burning her eyes. She sobbed and gasped, covering her mouth and shaking her head in denial. He wasn't among them, not the living or the dead. The three elves who had remained with him were gone, eyes shut in death. The two who had helped her had managed to survive, fighting off what was left of the spiders who had taken their friends from them. But Alfrid was not with them. Why did her realizing that hurt so much?

Thranduil came solemnly up next to her, looking grimly out at the returning party. Noticing the King standing on the balcony looking down upon them, one of the two survivors, in Sindarin, called, "Hir-nin Thranduil, we could not find the mortal! I fear… I fear he fell or was taken…"

Thranduil nodded in a silent acknowledgement of the statement. "They could not find him," he said to Hilda. Her human ears would not have heard the call so plainly.

"Then he's dead," Hilda whispered, voice wavering ever so slightly. Thranduil was quiet. "I want to go home," she finally said. Thranduil nodded then turned to make the arrangements for her return… And arrangements of his own to find out what became of the mortal man, be he dead, alive, or a captive of the spiders or… or of Gundabad… Or perhaps Dol Guldur had recovered swifter than was first suspected, but he would not entertain that thought long, for he sensed it was yet cleansed, at least for a little longer. Hardly time to mourn the dead of the battle and to come to terms with the fact his son was gone, and now this to deal with. But then he was used to having so little time. Little time... Elves should not have 'little' time...

LotR

Bard and Percy waited apprehensively at the gates of Dale. Bard was even more anxious than he had been now that Percy had informed him Hilda was with child. They saw the host of elves approaching. All stopped outside of the gates in perfect discipline and parted. There, clothed in an elven gown with an elven hairstyle, was Hilda. Bard actually felt his heart miss a beat. He had never seen her looking so lovely… Or sad, he immediately noticed. Worry and alarm came to his eyes. He went down and approached the Elven host with Percy. Percy took Hilda's arm and led her a little ways away, though they didn't enter the city yet.

The leader of the host of elves stepped forward. "Where is Alfrid?" Bard demanded. "The mortal man I sent to you, where is he?"

"We know not," the elf answered. "There was a spider attack. Five of our own raced to help. Only two survived, and that for the fact they had brought the woman away from the fight. When they returned to help with the spiders, they found their companions dead and being wrapped up. The mortal man was nowhere to be seen, either cocooned, eaten, dead, or run away. King Thranduil has sent out searchers, but do not hope that he will return. If he drifted off in the forest, he will not be found. I am sorry, Lord of Dale," the elf said, bowing slightly.

Bard was silent, stunned. He couldn't find the words to speak. The elf gave a traditional elven gesture of 'farewell' then turned with his company and marched away. "Hilda…" Percy began.

"Just bring me 'ome," she said hollowly. "I gots a will to find and affairs to get in order for me 'usband's memorial and me baby's coming."

"Hilda, you need not worry about…" Bard began.

"I'll worry about whatever it is I want to worry about," she answered. "Will keep me mind occupied anyway. Bah, good riddance to 'im. Never liked the man anyway. Almost feel like throwing a party now that 'e's dead. Me only unrest in this is that me baby grows up without its real father. But then Jorgen may be all too pleased to fill that role, and if not 'im _someone_ will."

"Should it come down to it and you determine you will not raise your infant without a father-figure, should Jorgen refuse your plea I will take it up," Bard promised.

She looked at Bard in surprise and awe. "I'm honored, your majesty," she said in surprise. "I'll keep it in mind. Right now…" She wouldn't say she needed to grieve, she wouldn't! She wasn't grieving, she was celebrating! Alfrid was out of her hair, everything he had was hers, and she was wealthy and set for life… But even the idea of love or marriage now seemed bitter to her. The idea of Jorgen becoming her husband or even Bard… It made her feel ill to think that anyone other than him would… No! No, she quickly banished that train of thought. It _wasn't_ hard to imagine someone else being her husband and raising her baby. She was happy, in fact, that it wouldn't be Alfrid doing so. She was… She was happy… So then why did she suddenly burst into tears, covering her face and weeping? She blamed the pregnancy. The hormones raging inside her made her moody and emotional. It wasn't because she cared about him, it wasn't because she loved him. She hadn't felt either, she hadn't… But she had… No! No, that was a lie, she didn't love him, she couldn't! What did it matter anymore anyway? He was gone, and she was left a widow and a single mother.

Five Months Later

He had been missing five months. She had stopped waiting for good news from Thranduil's folk about one month ago. All reports she received—which were sparse in themselves—only told her where he wasn't and that they hadn't found him but would keep looking. They wouldn't find him, she knew. He was dead. Well, at least she was rich… But she hadn't been enjoying a moment of it. In fact, she'd hardly left the house. Or their bedroom. It felt so… quiet now. And empty. She missed fighting with him… She used to hate it. Now she'd give anything to argue once again about pointless things and get on each other's nerves. Well, she'd give _almost_ anything. Her hand dropped to her stomach. She wasn't about to give _this_ up, not for the world.

She rose when she heard the door being knocked on and went down, opening it up. "What does you want?" she questioned whoever was standing outside.

"My dear, you have hardly been seen around town since Alfrid die… since he disappeared," Percy's wife, who had come seeking her, said in response without a greeting.

Sluggishly Hilda looked up. "Don't tip toe around me. Say it like it is, mum. Since Alfrid died," Hilda deadpanned. "Haven't much had time to get out. Sorting through his affairs, making ready for the baby, you know 'ow it is."

"No, my dear, I don't," Percy's wife ruefully and sadly said. "I was barren. We were never blessed with children. I cannot even pretend to imagine what it is like to prepare for one."

"Oh," Hilda said, blushing in embarrassment and biting her tongue. She probably shouldn't have talked.

Percy's wife smiled. "It's alright, Hilda," she said.

Hilda nodded. She was quiet, unsure how to proceed from here. She should probably invite the older woman in. "Come in, mum. I'll put on some tea," she said.

"I will put on tea, dearest," the older woman said, gently cupping the younger's cheek in a motherly gesture. "You sit yourself down at the table and when it's ready, we can talk."

"I doesn't want to talk about 'im," Hilda said.

"Hilda, I didn't say we needed to talk about Alfrid Lickspittle," she answered. Hilda nodded, smirking faintly.

LotR

"Bard, you've lost all sense," Percy said.

"I'm going out to look for him Percy, you won't stop me," Bard replied.

"What of your children? What if you don't come back?" Percy protested.

"I will return," Bard assured.

"Dale and Esgaroth need their king," Percy said.

"They will have him," Bard answered.

Percy sighed deeply. "Then I'm coming with you," he said.

"Percy…" Bard began.

"If I can't argue you, you certainly can't argue me, boy," Percy said. Bard smirked and chuckled. "I'll leave a message for me wife. It would please her if your children could stay with her, Bard. If it's alright with you. She's always wanted to be a mother. She'll never have that, so if nothing else she can have the next best thing."

"Of course, Percy," Bard agreed. Once the two had finished arranging things and informed their loved ones what was happening—you can bet Hilda protested loudly and vehemently, after all she didn't want to lose two more—they saddled up two horses and rode off with some of the better fighters in Dale. Esgaroth had few to spare. Though rebuilt, it was still all but a ghost town. Few had returned. Those who did soon went back to Dale. Only a very small portion still remained in hopes Esgaroth would flourish again... But the longer it was abandoned, the less likely it seemed. None of the men of Dale, of course, were trained formally in fighting, but they could all hold their own and had in the battle of the five armies. Much more emphasis had been put on learning to fight since Dale was recovered.

LotR

Bard and Percy rode silently through the forest, the others behind them and just as quiet. "Alfrid!" Bard called.

"Alfrid, where are you, boy?!" Percy shouted out as well.

"My Lord, are you sure it is safe to be calling out?" one of the men with them nervously asked.

"No," Bard flatly answered, not about to tip-toe around the issue. "But we are no good to anyone silent. Stay together. Travel in a tight group. Should spiders attack, we cannot let them split us apart.

"With respect, my Lord, I believe the last report was that Thranduil had driven them all out of the woods. At least for the time, but I do not like the idea of calling either," another of the men in the party said in a gruff and quiet tone that sounded entirely too false. As if the person was trying to disguise their voice…

"Really? If the report is in our favor, then why so nervous calling out?" Bard questioned, glancing suspiciously over at the second one who had spoken.

"It's just… this forest is evil, sir," the second one answered. "It gives me the willies."

Bard turned away from the particularly short man. At least, _now_ he noticed that one was particularly short, though not short enough to be a dwarf. He also noticed, now, that there was one extra in his party that was not supposed to be there. "What was your name, friend?" Bard questioned. Everyone else's he knew. This one was a stranger, though at this point he was highly doubting 'stranger' was the right word to put to him. More like reckless whelp. Namely a certain boy trying to be a man when he should be at home protecting and watching over his sisters.

The 'man' was silent a moment. "Christopher," he answered finally.

Bard reigned in his horse, sharply turning to the man and in a quick gesture throwing off his hood. Just as he suspected. "Christopher, is it?" he questioned darkly. "I do not recall you at any time having been addressed by your other name, Bain."

Bain blushed deeply in something akin to shame as he noted the fiery glare in his father's eyes. Sheepishly he turned away. "No, sir," he answered.

"What are you doing here?" Bard hissed. "You should be at home guarding your sisters!"

"Some of the warriors in town will!" Bain defended immediately.

"I did not give you permission to come with us, Bain! Have you lost your _head_?!" Bard sharply demanded as the rest of the party watched on awkwardly. "What if something happens? What if we are attacked? I refused to bring you for a reason! I will not have my son dying on my watch."

"Will you have me go back alone, then? I may get lost and never be found," Bain challenged.

"We ride back to Dale," Bard ordered the party, not about to snap up that bait.

"Da, that isn't fair!" Bain protested. "We will be fine, I'm sure of it! We do not need to return to Dale, please! I can do this!"

"This is not a matter to argue, Bain!" Bard shot sharply.

"I held my own in the battle and against the orcs that invaded our home, I can hold my own here!" Bain said.

"That is not a test I am willing to put you through just yet," Bard answered.

"Bard!" Percy exclaimed. Immediately Bard fell silent. There was movement in the bush. "Something is coming," Percy said.

"Get ready!" Bard ordered the men. Immediately they got off their horses and drew their weapons, getting in a circle. Bain stood near his father. Rather behind him, for Bard ensured he was in front of his son in case an attacker leapt from the woods. He would be the barrier between any enemies and his son.

LotR

Suddenly a group of Wildmen sprang from the trees, hollering and shouting. They set upon the small group with a vengeance. Immediately the search party was forced to defend itself. They fought back desperately, but the wild men were pushing them closer and closer together. Soon they would be completely surrounded! "Da, what do we do?!" Bain demanded of his father, terror in his eyes.

Bard, grim-faced, answered, "We fight to the death. It is all we _can_ do." If he saw opportunity to help his son escape, though, he would take it. Dale needed a ruler. "Stay close to me, Bain!" Bain nodded fearfully.

All at once there were battle cries and horses raced out of the woods, their riders bearing large and powerful looking weapons. The eyes of the wildmen filled with terror and they scattered. The force from Dale turned quickly to see who their saviors were… only to realize these were definitely not saviors. They had, in fact, only exchanged one evil for another worse one. Surrounding them was a band of Easterlings and Haradrim! From where they had come who could say? They never wandered in Mirkwood, nor did they ever come even close to it, or rarely. What, then, had drawn them here? They immediately took aim with bows. The men of Dale and Esgaroth, being so few, knew they couldn't stand. All they could do was wait for death.

"Tedniig kill!" one commanded. It wasn't hard to understand what he had said. Kill them. Bard immediately shoved Bain behind him.

"Khülee khüleekh! Yamar ch allaga! Ted baij üldeegeerei!"* another voice immediately ordered as a figure stumbled to the front of the line none too gracefully and put up his hands. "Yamar ch allaga!"* he repeated.

The eyes of the men of Dale widened in shock, their mouths dropping. None were more shocked than Bard and Percy. "Alfrid!" Percy finally blurted out in disbelief.

"Now in't the time, Percy," Alfrid testily said, hating himself already for stepping in.

"Ted daisnuud yum,"* the one who had given the order to shoot replied.

"Tedgeer ni odoo door zogsoj, nadad irsen yum,"* Alfrid answered sharply.

"You're alive!" Bard exclaimed.

"It's a long story," Alfrid groaned.

"We have time. Start talking, snake," Bain snarled from behind Bard.

"Keep your boy under control, Bard, else I ask these fine gentlemen to make 'im a pincushion," Alfrid said, frowning at Bain.

"Silence," Bard warned his son. Bain harrumphed and crossed his arms, but didn't press his luck.

"It all started with the spiders…" Alfrid began.

* * *

*Khülee khüleekh! Yamar ch allaga! Ted baij üldeegeerei! = Wait, wait! No killing! Leave them be!

*Yamar ch allaga! = No killing!

*Ted daisnuud yum. = They are enemies.

*Tedgeer ni odoo door zogsoj, nadad irsen yum. = They came for me, now stand down.


	14. The Shunned and Outcast

**Second and Last Chance**

(A/N: Second up today. Would have loved to go into more detail about the human enemies of Sauron, but unfortunately I can't afford the time right now with my course and all. Maybe one day I'll revisit and edit, if I don't edit this chapter enough to satisfy, that is.)

The Shunned and Outcast

The elves had fallen to the spiders, protecting Afrid. He was the only one left alive, now, but he wouldn't be alive much longer. He turned and ran. A good portion of them went after him, the rest remained with the elven bodies to wrap them up in silk. Alfrid didn't care that he had no clue where he was going. He just knew he had to get away from the spiders. With luck maybe he'd stumble on a settlement, or even an elven patrol. He tripped and cried out in pain, falling. He rolled over. The spiders were nearly on him! He cried out in alarm, staggering up. He held his sword in a style reminiscent of the Haradrim. His stance was that of the Easterlings. Not that either would do him any good. He was garbage with a sword. If elves hadn't been able to stand, _he_ certainly couldn't.

Just then figures leapt from the bushes and from out of the trees, landing on the spiders and immediately stabbing them over and over quickly and mercilessly, expressions disciplined and calm. They called out orders to each other in a language he didn't know… Wait… Yes he did. His eyes widened. He knew that language! It was his father's tongue! His mouth dropped. These were Easterlings and Haradrim banded together! The Men of Darkness! Snapping out of his shock when one of the Haradrim fell at his feet, he attacked the spider going to stab the one who had fallen. The spider died, he'd aimed well, and Alfrid turned to the Haradrim man quickly. The Haradrim stood up and went to attack him. "You really going to attack me now when there's spiders 'ere?! Brilliant decision, genius," Alfrid had furiously demanded of the man in their language. The Haradrim had been taken aback, but he hadn't gone to attack again. Instead he had returned to fighting the spiders.

When the battle stopped and the smoke fell, it was only Alfrid and a large group of Haradrim and Easterlings. And they were all looking at him. Not in a friendly way either. His mouth went dry. This would end very, very badly for him, he knew… But just as an Easterling went to kill him, an older one—a good bit older—stepped forward and said, "Wait!" The younger Easterling paused… The older one turned to Alfrid and questioned him, in their language, "Do you know the name Nergui Adnan?"

Alfrid's eyes widened. "He was my father," he answered, uneasy about the question. The eyes of the band of men widened. Before Alfrid had known it, they'd pulled him up onto a horse and rode away, with him hollering and demanding to know what this was all about.

Present

"As it turned out this band consisted of those who were once part of me father's band, and their children after them," Alfrid said. "The old one knew me father. 'E was their leader, 'e was. On learning I was 'is son, they got it into their fool 'eads I was heir to the leadership of them all. I didn't know the first thing about nothing... Now I know a good deal."

"Such as?" Percy asked.

"Let's just say I isn't so subpar when it comes to fighting anymore," Alfrid dryly said with a shrug. "'And-to-'and as well as with a sword, spear, and bow and arrows… And I know 'ow to ride an Oliphant now, I do. And sail a ship good and proper. They 'ave friends amongst the Corsair of Umber, sometimes even join up with a band of 'em. Been quite the experience it 'as." He could never admit just how much of an experience it had been. Or how much he had come to appreciate his roots or history. Or how much he had come to learn of these 'Men of Darkness'. Or how much he had grown to like this band that had been his father's. Or how close he had drawn, now, to his deceased parent. Rather his memory. He had learned… a good deal about things from the likes of these, he had. But to admit any of this would probably end up getting him labelled an ally of darkness and traitor and end up with his getting himself killed. After all, there weren't no hope for the Men of Darkness. Too far gone, they was. At least so everyone seemed to think. Granted they wasn't the most pleasant or tolerant sort around.

Bard summed up the band of warriors in their arrayed armors and styles silently. "What will you do?" he questioned Alfrid.

"What does you mean?" Alfrid asked.

"Will you stay with them, or will you return to Dale with us?" Bard asked.

"What has I gots to go back to there?" Alfrid grumbled.

"A pregnant wife," Percy answered.

"You means a pregnant 'arpy," Alfrid replied. "Besides, she's probably already married 'erself to the shopkeeper."

"She hasn't. She is still mourning you," Percy said.

"Mourning my foot," Alfrid said.

"She has rarely left the house, she dresses in black, she's shown no interest in any other... she's kept waiting, Alfrid," Percy said. Alfrid raised half an eyebrow.

"She's what?" he asked.

"She still waits for you," Bard said for Percy. "And mourns. And arranges for your memorial, though she has delayed and delayed, hoping news would come to her of you… Have the elven patrols not found you yet?"

Alfrid shifted uneasily. "Thranduil spotted me," he admitted. "When 'e 'ad slipped out of 'is palace to go for a ride on 'is elk. Saw me from a distance. Looked at me with them eerie eyes, reproaching me. Was like he knew what I'd been up to, who I'd joined up with. 'E waited. Probably was waiting for me to go to 'im or go back to me people." Huh, he'd called them _his_ people… More like his teachers, he wryly added to himself. "I chose them," he added, gesturing to his father's men. "Thranduil bowed his head in acknowledgement then rode off back to 'is palace." He'd never admit how grateful he was to the Elf King for that.

"Who will you choose now?" Bain piped up curiously from behind Bard.

Alfrid was silent. He didn't know… No, he did… "I'll go back to Dale with you, but only to see 'er, let 'er know what's been 'appening… I isn't going to leave me kind. Belong 'ere with them more than I ever did there… They isn't welcomed anywhere, you know. Hated in every corner say for with their own. They're evil, the enemy. Their women is unpleasant to look at and there isn't one good among them… Or so stories would 'ave you believe…" Turned out their women were some of the prettiest he'd ever _seen_. But then that was comparing them to Dale's assortment, so what did he know? And the other stories... There were two sides to every coin. He'd seen their side now, and stories were definitely just stories. "They gots nowhere, I gots nowhere. Kindred spirits we is."

"You have Dale and Esgaroth," Bard answered.

"If they doesn't have a place there, neither does I," Alfrid retorted. "And Hilda… It'll be 'er choice whether she'll come with me or not."

"Do you want her to go with you?" Percy questiond.

Alfrid was silent. "Yes…" he finally answered. "Right I want 'er to… That isn't me decision to make, though. Take me back." He turned to the Easterlings and Haradrims and said something to them in their language before going to Bard and Percy. Besides, he needed to grab his horse anyways. Missed the smelly beast.

"What did you tell them?" Percy asked.

"To wait for me on the beaches of Long Lake," Alfrid replied. "When I goes to join them, we ride out. Join up with the Corsairs for a mite." Bard and Percy nodded. The party began the journey back.

LotR

The party approached Dale. "What is you thinking, Bard? You've been awful quiet," Percy remarked.

"I ponder many things," Bard answered. "The matter of the Easterlings and Haradrim… Is Alfrid correct, do you suppose? Are there redeeming qualities in them? Or in the Corsairs and Wildmen and all those humans considered wicked?"

Percy was silent. "I've always thought they was men, just like us," he finally answered. "Just under a different sort of rule and a different set of circumstances. They bends their knee to no one say themselves... And ally with darkness... They're duty bound like we, just their motives are... Their motives are dark to us, but we may just not understand the things they fight for. They doesn't know any better. Nor do we."

"All of them?" Bard asked.

Percy cringed. "A good portion," he admitted. "But… I doesn't think they're beyond redemption; beyond being just men like you or I. I think they've been branded and shunned and feared and outcast for too long. So long, in fact, that the stories have become true because we've made them so and forced them to make them so. Even the Easterlings and Haradrims and Corsairs in Dale and Esgaroth—though there isn't many—show evidence of it. No one trusts them, everyone fears them, they is looked on with suspicion always. That's our doing, not theirs. They try to go about their lives. They're evidence enough the men of Khun and Harad and Umbar isn't all bad straight through to the core." There were a good deal of Umbar in Dale, actually. Or those descended from them.

"What would you say if I told you I am considering giving them Esgaroth?" Bard questioned. There were too few populating Esgaroth as it was. He knew Percy's words had truth, they would not be looked gently on in Dale, and always with suspicion, but in Esgaroth they could have a place. In Esgaroth they could found something of a life and in time, perhaps, even be accepted.

"The question isn't whether I like the idea or not, it's whether they're willing to do it. They would be a constant threat, Bard. They've lived lives as outlaws and bandits too long, and villains and marauders. I doesn't know if they could settle into a life in Esgaroth, or if they'd even want to," Percy answered.

"Then should I not even try?" Bard asked.

"You're taking a risk, Bard… But in the end, that risk might be a bold one, a good one, for not only us but them too, and all of our races across Arda. May one day even be an example and progression," Percy said. Though that day probably wouldn't come until the fourth age if not even later on.

"Then shall I try?" Bard questioned.

"It's up to you," Percy answered. Bard sighed in frustration. It was hard, not knowing for certain what to do.

LotR

Bain ran ahead to bring news to Dale that the search party had returned… And that they'd brought back their quarry. Hilda waited in the forefront of them all, lips tightly pursed. Bain hadn't said whether they'd brought him back dead or alive, after all. Percy's wife gently held her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around her belly. It was showing that she was pregnant now. After the first few weeks of pitying statements and exclamations about how sad it was the child was Alfrid's, she had lost her temper completely and freaked out at all who had dared say as much. They'd never made a slight about the baby being his again. It was best not to recall what she had said to them all.

Alfrid walked sulkily towards the gates of Dale and looked up, honestly not expecting to see her there. Or if she was there, he didn't expect a happy reunion… He was right. She was in the forefront, yes, but their reunion wasn't going to be pleasant. Her eyes lit up like an inferno and she stormed towards him like a tiger. Oh this was going to be painful. Sure enough the moment she was in range, she struck him as hard as she possibly could! He cried out in pain.

"Dammit, woman, what was that for?!" he demanded.

"Alfrid Lickspittle, if you ever leaves me a widow again you'll rue the day you was born, you will!" she screamed at him. He looked at her in disbelief, for you see, he had noticed tears burning in her eyes that she was fighting to hide. "I isn't ever going to forgive you for this and I isn't ever going to let you lives this down! How _dare_ you nearly die on me?! Why if I wasn't a decent sort…" she started, about to continue her rant.

He suddenly burst into laughter. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed this. Before she could chew him out for laughing, he drew her close and kissed her adoringly on the lips, his hand behind her neck, fingers entwined in her hair. His other hand rested lightly on her stomach. He felt her shiver and a sense of self-satisfaction ran through him. She threw her arms around his neck suddenly and sobbed against his lips as he drew away. She pulled him back immediately, kissing him again. "You didn't think I was going to go so easy on you, did you?" Alfrid murmured to her softly, pausing the kiss a second time before resuming it once more and gently swaying her. "Can't imagine the poison you'd tell our child 'bout 'is father were I not 'ere to match your poison with poison of me own against its mother." She struck him a second time then embraced him tightly. He spun her around.

"Where was you?" she questioned. "What 'appened to you out there?"

Alfrid was silent. "We'll talk at 'ome," he answered. Home. The word suddenly felt so much more right.

LotR

Hilda listened to his story in a cross between wonder and sadness. He intended to leave, he had made that clear from the start… But he had given her a choice… A difficult one, at that. It was a promise. A promise that should she choose to stay here, he would come back. At the least once every year. She didn't believe it. He would be gone for years at a time sometimes, she sensed. But maybe he would stay true. Maybe he would keep to once a year at least. Surely he would come back more. He had to. He had tried to promise more, but she had shouted at him not to make a promise he couldn't keep… That he'd relented and hadn't argued the point made her uneasy. Her choice was to go with him or remain here while he gallivanted about Middle Earth trying to get in touch with his roots and be something he wasn't… But could she say that, really?

…Perhaps he had already been trying to be something he wasn't for all the years he'd lived in Esgaroth…

"Will you wait until the baby is born and weaned?" she questioned.

"If you wants me to," he answered.

"What of… of your father's… your, people…?" she asked.

"They'll wait," Alfrid stated.

"How can you be so sure if they's anything like you," she bit bitterly.

"Didn't say they'd wait nearby. I'd 'ave to find them again, I would. They won't search for me," he said.

"What if you can't find them?" she asked.

"I will," he stated with conviction, and she knew his words were true. Whatever it was they had taught him, whatever skills he had now, at least one involved finding his sort again.

Hilda was silent. "Give me until the child is weaned to make a choice," she said. "Wait a little longer."

He smirked, catching what she'd done. She had copied what he had once said so often to her. Wait a little longer, wait a little longer, wait, wait, wait… "I can't wait forever, hagraven," he said. "But I'll try… for your sake…"

She closed her eyes tightly. "I think I may love you, Alfrid Lickspittle…" she bitterly and disgustedly murmured.

"I know you does," Alfrid replied, smirking wickedly. "I know you does because I certainly love _you_ Hilda Bianca. At least as much as can be expected from arch enemies." She smiled and giggled, opening her eyes again. She went to him and sat in his lap, kissing him. He drew her close.

"Sleep with me," she whispered to him. His men could wait a little longer.

Alfrid nodded in consent, picking her up bridal style and smirking. "I intends to," he answered mischieviously.

"Doesn't you be getting any ideas, Alfrid Lickspittle," she said, frowning at him.

"No more ideas than you already has," he replied. She grinned as he carried her up the steps and to their bedroom. He lay her down gently and lay over top of her, kissing her soft.

LotR

Alfrid was saddling up his horse to ride out to his people. Bard and Percy were watching. "I should like to see how you've improved in fighting style, Alfrid," Bard remarked.

"You will," he answered. "Staying until Hilda gives birth and until the child is weaned."

"I wish you would stay longer," Bard said.

"Doesn't belong here. Never did," he answered.

"Will you stay if I give you and your men Esgaroth?" Bard questioned.

Alfrid jerked the saddle too tightly. The horse reared and kicked. He yelped as he was sent to the ground. He was too shocked to think on pain, though. He scrambled to his feet. "Give me _what_?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. He couldn't have heard right.

"Esgaroth has yet to fully recover. Much of the population will not return there. Many who have often speak of leaving it for dead and returning to Dale. It is empty, as of yet, though it has been rebuilt… Should I give Esgaroth into the hands of the Easterlings and Haradrim and Corsairs, and whatever other 'outcasts' or shunned of men care to populate it, will you take it and be my ally?" Bard questioned.

"You-you're making me Master of Lake Town?" Alfrid dubiously said.

"Only if your people choose to stay there with you. They will be welcomed near to us. I will speak with Dain and Thranduil, and I will ensure they leave you in peace and accept that you are there," Bard said.

"You've got to be joking," Alfrid said.

"No… Esgaroth is yours, if you choose to take it. I have spoken to the people there, and to the people of Dale. It took no small amount of convincing, but I have won most over to my side," Bard said. "But Alfrid, this is an experiment, no more. A test to see if friendship can ever again be formed between our kinds, and alliance. Elves, Dwarves, Men of Darkness, us... Let us see if it is possible to be as our sorts once were ages ago, friends and brothers in arms... But if things should go awry..." He didn't need to finish. The point was clear.

Alfrid felt numb, to say the least. Finally he gasped out, "Yes! Bloody 'ell we'll take it!" If, that was, the others didn't mind the arrangement. Before Bard could say anything more, or Percy for that matter, Alfrid swung up onto his horse and galloped off to speak to his father's people.

"I isn't sure if that was wise," Percy said.

"Nor am I. We may yet come to regret it in future. But should it happen, Thranduil and Dain will be on our side of the matter," Bard stated. "We will be ready if something goes wrong… But I am willing to give the evil men of Khun and Harad and Umber and the wherever else the other so-called 'evil' men dwell a chance."

"You are a brave ruler, Bard. Maybe not so wise as you are brave, or maybe both equal. Who's to say? Time will tell, I suppose," Percy said.

"How can we learn and grow and develop if we do not take risk?" Bard questioned.

"Risk had ended as many dynasties as it's strengthened," Percy pointed out.

"True," Bard admitted. "But what is one more either way?"

Some Months Later

Esgaroth was populated now, mainly by men of darkness and those of Dale brave enough to go to them and learn about their pasts and cultures and about them as men. So far it had brought only fortune to both, though admittedly there was no small amount of strife at the start, or even still. However, Alfrid had agreed to keep Bard allied. He had a way with words, after all, and had been able to bring the 'outcasts' over to his side. They were working together to bring the two places closer and build trust again.

Alfrid was reading a book, engrossed in it. Hilda came down the stairs, a tiny bundle in her arms. "How is 'e?" Alfrid questioned.

"Down for the night," she answered, grinning gently down at the newborn in her arms and nuzzling it softly. Alfrid rose, placing down the book, and went to her. He looked down at the little one. "Looks like me father," he remarked.

"With bits of mine as well," she said. Eyes of the Easterlings, skin of the Haradrim, Alfrid's face shape which must have been his father's, and her pa's nose and mouth, and her cheeks. May have sounded not all that pretty, but it was. The child was beautiful, and more than just her had said as much. The birth had been surprisingly easy on her. For that she was grateful, as was Alfrid. The mortality rates of mothers giving birth were particularly high in Esgaroth and Dale, or had been. She was lucky she hadn't been one of them.

"Let me carry 'im," Alfrid said.

"As if I'd trust you to carry an infant, Alfrid Lickspittle. You'd probably drop 'im on 'is 'ead," she replied.

"Like you was dropped?" he sneered.

"Oh shove it down your pie hole!" she snapped sharply.

"Give me the baby, wench!" he demanded.

"Over me carcass!" she replied.

"I'll be glad to make it 'appen!" he yelled. The baby began to cry, waking up. "Now see what you did?"

"Me? You was the one yelling your fool 'ead off!" she retorted.

"You should 'ave let me 'old it! 'E's me son too, you know!" Alfrid shot.

"Of bloody 'ell, take 'im! We'll see 'ow well you does at putting 'im to sleep again," she challenged. Huffing she turned, walking away. "Starting to think I preferred you gone!" she snapped.

"You'd be singing another tune if it was so!" he retorted.

"Bah!" she replied, starting to cook food. He smirked as he watched her and looked down at his child. Maybe he could manage this marriage thing after all. Gently he kissed the infant, then went to his wife and kissed her head. She smiled softly to herself as the babe calmed.

(A/N: And end. Hope you enjoyed it. Not sure how much detail Tolkien went into about Esgaroth after the Hobbit ended, other than just passing references and mentions that it and Dale joined the War of the Ring on Thranduil's side or something like that. Haven't read all Tolkien's material, though, so I'm not sure. Being as it was so vague, as far as I know, and they never really went into Lake Town's fate after the Hobbit, I decided to put a bit of a spin on it here. Seems a little sudden to me, but again, short on time. Hope you liked it anyway. I do intend to write other stories for the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings in future, but for now school needs to be my focus. Until next time, then. Reviews appreciated, and a thank you to those who have reviewed it all the way through.)


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